


Lie There and Breathe

by peppermintchild



Series: The Dark I Know Well [2]
Category: Avengers (2012), Captain America (2011), Iron Man (2008)
Genre: AU, Angst, BDSM, D/s, D/s World, F/F, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Slash, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-09
Updated: 2013-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-03 08:14:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 22,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/379240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peppermintchild/pseuds/peppermintchild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>D/s World AU. Tony was Obadiah's abused Sub since he was a teenager, something that even after Obadiah's death no one knew about. Tony doesn't know how to be in a healthy relationship and is terrified of having another bad one, so he decides that he'll simply remain on his own; lonely, but giving himself the feeling of safety that was beaten out of him for twenty-odd years. Then he meets Captain America and the two of them Bond; Steve is ecstatic, Tony has a breakdown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> Title is taken from the lyrics of "The Dark I Know Well" from the musical Spring Awakening.
> 
> From the prompt: "D/s verse, Bonding exists but is so freaking rare that almost all the relationships are just like normal RL relationships only based on D/s roles instead. Tony was Stane's secret abused and manipulated sub for years (maybe ever since he manifested even) and has no idea what a good and loving Dom/sub relationship is supposed to be like. (Plus his Dom tried to kill him and *he* ended up actually killing his Dom instead, too)  
> And then Iron Man, Avengers Initiative and he meets Steve, and they shake hands, and Instant BONDING! and happy joyous unexpected event for Steve (and everyone else) but Tony freaks the FUCK out." found here (http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/3266.html?thread=2181314#t2181314)

Tony wasn’t thinking about Obi. He wasn’t. Tony rarely thought about Obi these days, it’d been over a year and a half since Obi died and that was a Good Thing. Tony needed more Good Things is his life, that’s what Pepper told him and he was inclined to agree. Pepper also told him that she was happy he’d stopped sleeping around; she thought it was because he’d matured after Afghanistan or because he didn’t want anyone to see the Arc Reactor, both were true but they weren’t the real reason. Being with Pepper had been weird, he loved her, honestly and truly, but he couldn’t submit the way she wanted even though he knew he could trust her. He trusted her with his heart – let her change the Arc Reactor – but he couldn’t trust her with his mind. He knew he was broken, and that was okay, but she thought he was just difficult; but she didn’t push too hard, she was gentle and sweet and utterly unfamiliar from his usual frenzied one-night-stands or from his Do- no. _No_. Obi was dead now; he didn’t have any claim on Tony anymore. He was best left forgotten. So Tony wasn’t thinking about Obi, not right now, instead he was thinking about Captain America – his childhood hero who disappeared before Tony was even born, but he’d been found alive by SHIELD. _Alive_. After seventy years and from the report he’d been given by SHIELD (and then the security cameras he’d hacked into) Captain America was still as youthful as he’d been the day he took the serum, if a little colder.

 

Tony was prepared for every possibility, _You’re Just Like Your Father_ to _You’re Nothing Like Your Father_. Because Dad was there the day Mr Steven G. Rogers became Captain America and they’d been great friends right up until the plane crash. Everyone knew that Bucky Barnes was Captain America’s best friend, it was in all the movies, comics, and even documentaries, and most people knew that Howard Stark had worked with the war effort during that time, but with the Super Soldier procedure being classified to ridiculous extremes even now, Howard’s contribution had been kept quiet (Tony had heard that Dr. Banner had to sign confidentiality agreements with six different branches of the government and three with agencies outside of the government before he could even start theorising about ways of re-creating the Serum). There’d been lots of old war buddies at the funeral though, Tony had shaken hands with a lot of old men who said they’d never forget the help that Howard had given them during the war, most were talking about improved weapons; some about being picked up in the middle of a no-hope war zone by a cheerful man with a plane and somehow surviving the flight back to base; but a few told him that they had been part of the Howling Commandos, that they had fought alongside the good Captain and drank with Howard in their spare time. They said he was a great man, a great inventor, pilot, and friend. They said they were sorry for Tony’s loss. Tony thought that this great man must have been lost a long time ago, because all he ever saw in his father was disappointment.

 

Tony knew better now, over two decades later; his father cared in his own way, but not like a father should. He called Tony a _‘creation’_ like he was something built in the workshop, like he was a thing and not a person. Well Tony was tired of being a thing, that’s what he was to his father, that’s what he was to Obi, he’s not going to be that anymore, because he’s going to meet Captain America and he’s going to make friends with Captain America and he’s going to be his own person for the first time ever if it kills him. So Tony put on his sunglasses, hopped into Happy’s car with the suit in a briefcase and smiled – because nothing can go wrong.


	2. Steve

Steve didn’t really know what to expect from Tony Stark, when they told him that Howard had a son he was overjoyed at the possibility of someone he would be able to talk to about everything – Steve would be able to tell Tony about when he knew his father, and Tony could tell Steve about what happened to everyone after he was frozen because Steve knew that Howard would have stayed in touch with everyone, which meant that Tony would had grown up hearing about them and seeing them on Sunday dinners maybe.

 

They told him that Stark was a genius, arguably more so than Howard had been, they said that there were rumours that he was a Submissive but he was quite notorious for having casual sex with anyone willing, they told him that Stark used to create weapons but after being kidnapped and freeing himself after three months he built himself a weaponised suit of armour and declared himself a super-hero, they said that he had no respect for anyone, hated authority figures, and was essentially a brat. He sounded like an interesting person, Steve decided, but he wasn’t going to judge Tony – or _Mr Stark_ he should say – until he’d met him in person, but then Director Fury told him that Tony near-about hated his father, that Howard had raved about his son’s genius in the papers but then gone home to the bottle and been nothing but depressed and disappointed. Not many people knew this, Fury told him, as far as the public was concerned the Starks were an eccentric yet happy family and Tony greatly respected his father’s memory, but Steve shouldn’t go into meeting him expecting to be welcomed, because chances were Tony would hate him on principle.

 

So Steve didn’t really know what to expect from Tony Stark, but he decided that whatever happened he was going to try and befriend the man because Tony, Mr Stark, was going to be on the team that Director Fury had been talking about. _The Avengers Initiative_ , he called it. Steve had already read files on and met the two SHIELD agents who were to be on the team (Agents Barton and Romanoff, a ranged fighter and a close-combat fighter, respectively) and he’d found them to be quite... interesting.

 

Barton was verging on disrespectful and thoroughly unimpressed the first few times they met, which only changed after Steve began using the gym one night when Barton was already in there – the younger man (although, Barton looked older, and Steve didn’t actually consider himself to be _ninety_ so... this was confusing), Barton, had apparently decided upon watching Steve’s training regime that he was maybe worth respecting after all. Barton still kept up with the sarcastic remarks though, which Steve found comforting, he was so sick of people treating him like some hero rather than a person, it was one of the reasons he liked Agent Romanoff.

 

Romanoff, right from the start, had treated Steve like any other agent: she was terrifying, obviously deadly, and demanded total respect – giving none until it was earned. Barton told him that it was because she was Russian and she hadn’t grown up hearing about how wonderful he was in school like all the American children had, Romanoff’s file told him that she was raised and brainwashed as a child by a Soviet black ops program to be an ultimate killing machine – Steve doesn’t think he wants to know what she was taught about him as a child. He also doesn’t want to know what she did to make Junior Agent Stiles cry, but he did spend ten minutes comforting the man regardless.

 

Somehow, Steve had earned her respect and the two of them were almost friends, he still couldn’t be sure that she wasn’t going to stab him but he thought they were at the stage in their relationship where if she did decide to take him down she’d do him the honour of letting him know first. He rather got the feeling that was a big thing coming from her.

~

 

The topic of Dominants and Submissives came up after three weeks of waking up, it was in the folder he was given to brief him on the seventy years he’d missed, of course (equal rights in the sixties and seventies; a lot of controversy surrounding the existence of Switches; still unsure whether everyone has a Bond and they just don’t find them or if it’s only select people), but the first time he had an actual conversation about it was during a card game with Barton and Romanoff. They’d agreed to meet at six in Steve’s quarters; Romanoff came five minutes early balancing three large, square pillows on her head and followed by a Trainee Agent who was carrying a rug and some thick blankets.

                “I prefer to play on the ground, and the floor here is freezing.” She explained after the Trainee left.

They pushed the small desk Steve had to the side of the room and Steve lifted it while Romanoff slid the rug under its legs so that the edge of the rug wouldn’t bend. Steve asked about Romanoff’s day as they set the pillows and blankets up, but it was classified so she couldn’t tell him, he asked if she had plans for tomorrow, but it was classified, he jokingly asked her if she ever did anything other than classified operations,

                “That’s classified.” She replied, smiling.

                “Okay, here’s a question that you _will_ be able to answer: why did you carry the pillows on your head instead of just holding them in your arms?”

                “Oh,” she laughed quietly, “I prefer to keep the younger agents on their toes; they wouldn’t expect me to walk around base with pillows on my head so I do. It scares them. I’m trying to find something to do that’s the perfect balance between terrifying and hilarious, because I know that if they laugh at me they’ll automatically have a panic attack thinking I’ll kill them.”

                “Why is that a good thing?”

                “Because if an agent has a panic attack at the sight of me wearing a summer dress and flowers in my hair, they’re clearly not SHIELD material and it’s better we know that now rather than when they’re in the field and suddenly unable to perform. I’m doing us all a favour, in the long run.”

Steve thought for a second, “I’m fairly certain that was the same reasoning Barton gave me for why he bribed the contractors to soundproofed the air vents, crawled inside them, and shot people with a paintball gun from the ceiling on the second floor.”

Romanoff gave a full smile, “It’s for the greater good.”

They sat down on their pillows and Romanoff began telling stories of several other pranks or tricks she and Barton had pulled on the unsuspecting SHIELD agents, she was just about to tell him about April 16th, 2009 (apparently if you yell “turnip” on the fourth floor the agents there can and will taser you en masse and it will be considered the result of severe provocation) when Barton finally showed, ten minutes late.

                “Told you.” Romanoff smirked, as he settled onto his own pillow.

                “I wasn’t hungry.” Barton shot back.

Steve was confused, “What?”

                “Oh... uh,” Barton looked to the floor for a second before moving his gaze to Steve’s shoulder, “I skipped lunch today, I mean I had a huge breakfast so I didn’t think it would be that big of a deal, but, yeah Sir wasn’t happy with me so he... well... yeah. Sorry I was late.”

Oh. _Oh._ Steve smiled slightly embarrassed, “It’s fine. So you’re uh...”

                “A Sub, yeah.”

                “I... don’t know why I find that surprising actually, I guess I’m still used to Sub’s not being allowed into the military unless their Dom is with them.”

                “Well actually,” Barton met Steve’s eyes, “he works here.”

                “Oh! Well, that’s, um –”

Barton laughed, “Don’t fret, I know I know, people didn’t talk about these things back in your day.”

                “No, it’s fine.” Steve sighed, “ Why do people always assume things like that though, I was in the army... not quite so innocent as you all seem to think I am.”

Romanoff started shuffling the cards without even looking at them and said to Barton, “I’ve told him he should try the whip, you never misbehaved with me when I had one.”

                “He prefers a more hands-on approach.”

                “Well I remember how much you enjoy _that_.”

                “So,” Steve said, “The two of you used to....”

Barton was the one who answered, while Romanoff started dealing, “Years ago, op went wrong and we got trapped in a cellar for six days; stayed together on-and-off for about two years then we split. I’ve been with Sir now for... well it’ll be four years next month.”

                “Are you Bonded?”

                “Nah, but it’s real, y’know?”

Steve didn’t know. “And what about you?” he said to Romanoff, “Got anyone nice to take care of?”

Barton seemed amused at his phrasing, but Romanoff straightened her back and looked a little more deadly than before. “Actually,” she said, “I’m a Switch. I have a Mistress at the moment, is that a problem?”

                “No!” Steve almost shouted it, “No, no that’s fine. I knew this soldier in the war, Robson, he’d had several Subs before but one day he shook hands with his commanding officer and they Bonded, Robson as the Sub. There was a heap of trouble stirred up about it, but I didn’t have a problem with it and I told them that, which seemed to help smooth things down. I think it’s great! Love is love, it shouldn’t matter how you get it.”

There was an awkward silence broken by Barton, “You’re a Dominant right, Cap?”

                “Ah, yes. I am.”

                “Because I broke into some files one time, well a couple times, and it told me that your old girl, Peggy, was one of the founders of SHIELD, but it had her listed as a Dominant too...”

Steve blushed, and looked at the floor. “I had the hugest crush on her, but yeah, we both were. It was weird, I wanted to be with her but we just didn’t fit.”

                “That’s actually becoming more common,” Romanoff said gently, “two Dom’s feeling a connection between each other often solve it by sharing a Sub. Difficult to work, but some people manage to get it and are quite happy.”

~

                Romanoff and Barton left around eight-thirty, and with nothing else to do Steve decided to go down to the gym for a few hours. He focused on flexibility this time, trying some of the moves that he’d seen Romanoff and Barton doing, but without someone to spot him he couldn’t tell if he was doing them correctly and went off to shower after less than two hours of practice. The change room was empty, but he knew that there was a boxing class for the trainees starting in twenty-five minutes (SHIELD personnel kept queer hours, Steve thought) so he would only have five or so minutes to himself. He decided on a quick, cold shower and had just pulled his trousers up when the first of the young men walked in; some gawped openly at Steve’s chest – still strange – or smiled at him appreciatively while others dropped their eyes to the floor, clearly under orders from their Dom’s not to ogle strange men.

 

Steve had only met a handful of trainee agents, technically he was still classified and Need-To-Know only, but he got bored occasionally and snuck out to talk to people. He was smart about it though, he went to the cafeteria on level -2 which was only for those with clearance levels 3 and over – trainees being level 2 – and so none of the men walking in recognised him as Captain America. Steve smiled, pulling on his shirt, and walked back quickly to his room.

~

                As soon as he shut his door, Steve undressed and climbed into his bed, lying on his belly, wondering what the Subs would tell their Doms after training. What would Steve do if he had a Sub who told him he or she had been staring at another man, would he punish his Sub? Romanoff had mentioned whips, but Steve didn’t want to hurt his Sub, no he’d pleasure whoever it was, make them want to look at no one but him all day.

 

_He turned onto his back, erection roughly in hand._

 

Would he have a girl? Curvy, not skinny like so many of the women he’d seen around the base, hips he could hold onto when they made love.

 

_His hand sped up, calluses catching on the soft skin._

 

Yes, a pretty girl who could ride him, he’d be less likely to accidentally hurt her with his enhanced strength that way, and he could lie on his back and watch her face as she came, again and again and again.

_  
_

_He flipped back onto his stomach, hand pumping furiously._

 

Or a man, nicely muscled, strong so Steve could really pound into him; make his beautiful Sub come without even touching his erection. Peggy. He and Peggy could share someone, Peggy kneeling over their face, Steve between their thighs

 

_– he came, shooting into his hand and sheets –_

 

and afterwards they could lie together and Steve would comfort their Sub, kiss him or her gently, wash away the sweat and come, and whisper, “ _you were perfect, I’m so lucky to have you”_. Except he couldn’t do that, Steve realised with a shiver, Peggy was dead, and so was Bucky and Howard and all their friends. Steve was the only one left now.

 

                He got up slowly, grabbed his shirt and wiped his hand on it, cleaning up what had spilled on his sheets also before throwing the shirt into the corner of the room. He sat on the edge of the bed, naked and shaking for several moments before climbing under the covers again. He shifted around, trying to get himself comfortable before finally admitting defeat and getting up again. He picked up the three blankets Romanoff had brought with her and rolled them, then slipped them under his own covers and crawled in afterwards. Wrapping his body around the blankets, he imagined it was a person, his Sub, and whispered, “ _You’re so beautiful. Go to sleep now”,_ falling asleep himself seconds later.


	3. Meeting

Steve had been awake a week when they told him that Howard had a son, two weeks when they told him what Ton- Mr Stark was like, and three and a half weeks when Steve was told he could meet him. Director Fury, who was bringing Steve up to the meeting room, said that they’d only told Stark about him yesterday and within twenty minutes of Agent Coulson leaving Stark Tower, Mr Stark had already hacked into SHIELD’s cameras and started reviewing all the footage he could find trying to catch a glimpse of Captain America.

                “We’re having a hard time tracking exactly what he’s been looking at, but he’s seen the footage of you being defrosted a dozen or so times,” Fury was saying, “he’s also quite fond of watching you waking up for the first time, and we think he’s managed to find the camera to your room.”

                “So, it doesn’t sound like he hates me, then?”

                “Probably not, but don’t expect him to be polite or respectful.”

They stepped into the lift, “Is he really that bad?”

                “Yes. If he likes you, he’ll create you shiny new toys but he won’t be nice and he won’t be pleasant to work with. Now,” Fury said as the doors opened once more, “he already knows Agent Romanoff, she worked undercover at his company last year and he’s met Thor through annoying Dr. Foster – Thor’s girlfriend – in her lab last week, personally, I didn’t think Stark would survive the experience, but somehow they made friends. You’ll be meeting Thor this afternoon along with Dr. Banner who just arrived two nights ago. You’ve read your files on them?”

                “Yes sir, Thor is either an alien or a god, and Dr. Banner was investigating the Super Soldier Serum and a type of radiation when there was an accident, as a result he turns into a giant green monster when his heart rate is elevated, such as when he’s angry.”

                “That about sums it up Captain.”

                “And these are the people you’re counting on to save the world? I’m sorry, but it just doesn’t seem workable.”

                “Then I’ll be trusting you to whip them into shape when you’re leading the team.”

Steve stopped, “Wait, you want me to lead the team?”

                “Who else would you want to do it? Barton is good for following orders, but doesn’t know how to give them; Romanoff excels in stealth and hand-to-hand combat, she won’t be able to survey the field and do her job at the same time; Stark is a civilian who was tortured in a cave for three months and has a history of self-destructive tendencies; Banner’s also a civilian and seeing as The Hulk struggles to make a full sentence it’ll be difficult to get your orders; that leaves it between you and an alien prince who has never been in a real war and is used to commanding armies of immortal gods rather than fragile humans. I’ve volunteered Agent Coulson to oversee your missions and act as liaison between SHIELD and yourselves when you’re in the field, but when it comes down to it Cap, you’re the only one who can give them orders.”

                “I just...” he sighed, “I guess I just assumed that you had someone else picked out for it that I hadn’t heard of yet.”

                “Just you, Captain. Don’t know what we would have done if we hadn’t found you.” They stepped through a doorway into a large meeting room; Barton was speaking quietly with Deputy Director Hill, seemingly immune to her unimpressed glare, while Romanoff was leaning against the table inspecting her nails. She nodded at him as they made eye contact and he smiled back quickly before surveying the rest of the room, empty but for the five of them – Romanoff and Barton were in costume, as was he although he had his cowl down, Deputy Director Hill was in her field uniform as she had been each other time he’d met her, while Fury was in dark, casual clothes as usual. Steve guessed that being the Director, he didn’t need to go into the field often.

                “He’s not here yet?” he asked Fury, trying to keep his voice neutral.

                “Agent Coulson is helping Stark get a new ID card, _somehow_ Stark’s keeps getting a higher clearance level than it should every time he gets here.”

Steve noted that Barton had stopped talking to Deputy Director Hill when Agent Coulson’s name was mentioned, and was now walking towards them, “Phil’s gonna be here?” he asked somewhat nervously.

                “Forget to eat your lunch again, honey?”

                “Shut up, Tash.”

Fury sighed and rolled his... eye, “There’s some energy bars in a drawer over there,” he pointed to the south corner of the room, “go grab one and shut up.”

So Agent Coulson must be Barton’s Dominant, Steve supposed, that would make it interesting if Agent Coulson was to be overseeing their missions like Fury had said, but then Barton had mentioned they’d been together for several years so they were probably used to that kind of situation by now. Still, Steve would keep an eye on them; make sure that it wasn’t going to interfere with Barton’s performance in the field.

“Hey,” Barton said, digging through the drawer, “there’s some pretty good stuff here. You guys want anything?”

Fury cleared his throat.

“What?” Barton turned towards them holding two bars, and his eyes twinkling, “Rogers eats more than Natasha and I combined ‘cause his metabolism is so insane. I’ve had lunch with him – it’s a little bit terrifying. He’s probably starved by now; can’t have it going round the base that you’re starving Captain America, can you Director?” He actually was a bit hungry. Steve shrugged and grinned sheepishly when Fury turned to him.

                “Fine, let’s all have a picnic while we wait for Stark, shall we?” he stalked over to where Deputy Director Hill was standing, resolutely ignoring them all and leant against the wall next to her. Taking one quick look towards the door – still no sign of Agent Coulson or Mr Stark – Steve crossed over to Barton, taking off his gloves and setting them on the table as he passed it. He poked around the drawer, which was surprisingly well stocked, and picked out an apricot bar.

 

He finished three more apricot bars in two minutes, and was half way through an almond bar when the doors whooshed open. Agent Coulson whose eyes were drawn immediately to Barton and a man who Steve recognised from photographs as Mr Stark entered, the latter holding a suitcase which he leaned against the wall.

                “Captain. Hello.”

Steve swallowed and set the remaining half of his snack next to his gloves, “Mr Stark.”

 

Mr Stark was skinnier than he perhaps should have been for his height, though Steve could see even through the suit – no doubt expensive – that he had a good build, solid. Steve could see a fair bit of Howard in his son, they had the same shaped eyes and mouth but more obviously they had the same stance, a certain charisma, and confidence.

 

“Ha! Tony, please. Mr Stark was my dad. Although, I guess you called him ‘Howard’, or ‘Old Pal’ or something.”

                “I... yes, I did. It’s good to meet you finally.” He stuck out his hand for Tony to shake.

                “Yeah, you too Cap.”

 

The first thing that he noticed when Tony’s hand grasped his was the roughness, the calluses, which seemed so out of place with the perfectly manicured nails. Howard’s had been the same, hard and rough like any other working man’s, yet clean and neat for when he was out impressing the dames or at a fancy party with his fellow rich people.  The second thing Steve noticed was the incredible heat radiating off Tony’s palm, it felt like their hands were burning but there was no pain, it was like... Steve’s eyes snapped up to Tony’s, the other man looked confused at first but when the gold threads of light began shimmering into existence Steve could see Tony’s realisation on his face.

 

He knew what it looked like when two people bonded, he’d seen it happen twice before and it was beautiful: two thin golden threads appeared, one coming from each Bonded’s wrist, and slowly began to snake their way along the joined hands until they reached the beginning of the partner’s thread and there they joined making one continuous loop Binding them together.

 

There was some contention about what the threads were, Steve’s mother had told him that it was the everlasting soul tying itself to its Bonded so that they wouldn’t lose each other in the afterlife; she said that everyone found their Bonded in the afterlife, but some people were lucky enough to find them before – those people were blessed. Other people said that it was the Dominant (because his or her thread always emerged first) claiming ownership of the Submissive, creating an unbreakable Bond so that the Submissive could never leave. There were other theories too that Steve had heard, but the one thing they had in common was that everyone agreed it was the most beautiful thing in the world, not just visually, not just in knowing that two people had found their Bonded, but physically: anyone who saw the golden threads was immediately overcome with a sense of total peace, the feeling could last anywhere from ten seconds to ten hours, reportedly.

 

Being the Bonded one, though, gave a different feeling and now Steve understood why no one had ever answered him when he asked them what it was like to find your Bond. It was a series of indescribable feelings making Steve want to laugh and cry at the same time; it felt like he was drowning, but at the same time it was like he taking a deep breath or clean, cool air; his legs felt weak and his knees shook, but he’d never felt stronger or more in control.

 

 Steve had been staring at Tony’s face, he watched as his expression changed from shock, to peace, then confusingly to something darker. He felt Tony trying to pull his hand away and Steve automatically held on tighter, not loosening his grip until the bonds had faded away again and allowed Tony to wrench his hand free. Tony’s jaw clenched tight and Steve could see he was fighting not to faint or throw up (the former was not uncommon after the intensity of Bonding, while the latter also happened occasionally it was usually in people who’d Bonded too young – before their Dominant or Submissive personalities had manifested and were unable to cope with the proceedings).

                “Don’t.” Tony choked out, then immediately flinched, “Please. Sorry, I...”

He turned on the spot, slowly as though he was doing his best not to run, and walked out the door picking up his suitcase as he left. There was silence for a few seconds after the doors _whooshed_ closed again, before they heard the sound of glass smashing and watched as the Iron Man suit – Steve recognised it from Tony’s file, and _Holy Mary Mother of God he just_ Bonded _with Tony_ – flew past the window.

 

Steve swallowed, his throat painfully dry, “I... What just?”

 

He turned towards the others, Agent Coulson had moved across the room at some point and was standing behind Barton’s chair and cradling his Sub’s head against his chest; Romanoff was frowning at the floor, apparently deep in thought; Deputy Director Hill looked rather taken-aback; Director Fury’s expression was completely unreadable. Steve tried again.

                “What just... happened?”

Agent Coulson answered him after several seconds, “Maybe it’s just shock. He might just need some time. It’s not every day a man gets Bonded.”

                “Okay.”

Steve wasn’t okay, he was far from okay, but he was a soldier so he straightened his back and turned to his superior.

                “May I be excused, Director Fury?”

                “Of course. Under the circumstances, I think I’ll push back your meeting Dr Banner and Thor until this time tomorrow.”

                “Thank you.”

He turned and slowly walked back to the elevator, carefully keeping his face expressionless in case he was seen by anyone in the hallways. Once inside he shut the door, pulled off his boots, and climbed into his bed. He automatically pulled the blankets Romanoff brought from several nights ago towards his chest then realised what he was doing and threw them to the floor. It was the middle of the day so he had no reason to be tired, but he felt so incredibly exhausted and, confusingly, _scared._

 

He’d heard that sometimes during the first few days after a Bond was formed any particularly strong emotions bled through from the Submissive to his or her Dominant, and that this helped the Dominant judge how best to take care of their new Submissive. Steve wondered what had Tony so frightened.


	4. Dreaming

Crap. Crap. Crap, crap, crap. Fuck. How could this happen? He couldn’t, he _couldn’t_ do this. He couldn’t. Absolutely not. Not again. _Fuck._

 

Stark Tower was only a few blocks from the SHIELD building so it took him less than a minute to get there in the suit. Tony asked JARVIS to send a message to Happy telling him to take the rest of the day off, keep the car, whatever, just don’t come back. As soon as he was in the penthouse Tony initiated a lockdown of the apartment,

                “No one in, JARVIS. No one. Not Pepper, not Fury, not,” he choked, “Cap, no one. I’m serious.  And don’t even think about letting anyone call me. Nothing in or out until I tell you otherwise, okay?”

                “Of course, sir.”

JARVIS sounded worried. Why the fuck did Tony program him with a personality? He must have been drinking.  Actually, he definitely was. And speaking of drinking... Tony walked shakily over to the bar and grabbed the first bottle he touched, and sunk to the floor; he couldn’t taste the alcohol when he gulped it down but he appreciated the burn in his throat.

 

He was _Bonded._ The dream of every kid ever, and most adults, and somehow _he’d_ managed to do it. Tony Stark, King of Fuck-Ups had gotten Bonded. And he was Bonded with _Captain America_ of all people, the star of many of Tony’s wet dreams as a teenager – even before he’d manifested as a Submissive Tony had dreamed of getting fucked by him, and once he _had_ manifested... well, he’d thought that having a Dom who could hold him down with one hand would be _hot_ , he’d thought that getting fucked so hard he screamed would be a _good thing_. He’d been such a child.

 

Fucking Obi.

 

Tony drank; He finished the bottle, but he wasn’t sure how full it had been when he started and the only reason he didn’t go for a second was because of JARVIS,

                “Sir, I feel I should inform you that if you open another bottle I will be forced to use Vocal Order Override 6b, and alert Ms Potts as to your actions.”

                “6b ‘s for when I’m _dying_ JARVIS.” Stupid machine.

                “I believe that if you drink another bottle, sir, you will be well at risk of that. As is, I would recommend going to the emergency room should you feel any discomfort.”

                “’Discomfort’. Ha.” Tony sniffed and wiped his nose on the sleeve of his expensive suit, “I loved him, y’know.” He said morosely, “Obi. At first he was really nice, taught me how to blow him and how to keep quiet without a gag. And then Mom and Dad died and he got the company and I went crazy and he was too busy to look after me, ‘nd then _I_ got the company and he had time again. Wasn’t the same though.”

He got unsteadily to his feet and began slowly walking in the direction of his bedroom.

                “I’m going t’ sleep JARVIS,” he slurs, “don’t wake me ‘less the world’s ending or something.”

                “Of course, Sir, sleep well.”

~

Steve dreams.

 

_He dreams that he is sitting in his room at the orphanage talking with Bucky, who is leaning against a wall._

_“I met someone.”_

_“I know,” says Bucky, “but what are you going to do with him?”_

_Steve thinks and starts doodling on a piece of paper, “I’m going to look after him.”_

_“Why? He obviously doesn’t like you.”_

_“He does.”_

_“He ran away.”_

_He frowns at Bucky who is completely expressionless, “He was scared.”_

_“Of you?”_

_“I don’t think so.”_

_Bucky walks over to sit next to Steve, snatching the paper away from under his pencil, “What are you scared of?”_

_“You,” Steve says truthfully, “dying.”_

_“I was meant to die.” Bucky says._

_“No!”_

_“I was meant to die.” He repeats, except this time he’s not Bucky, he’s Tony._

_Steve grabs Tony, a hand on either side of his face, forcing Tony to look him in the eye, “No, Tony. Please don’t die.”_

_“Too late.” He whispers_

_Tony looks down and Steve drops his hands to see blood spreading across Tony’s chest; Steve gently lays Tony down on the bed they were sitting on and puts pressure on the wound in an attempt to stop the bleeding._

_“Please don’t let him take me again.” Tony begs, “Please don’t let him.”_

_“I won’t,” Steve says through his tears, “He can’t take you.”_

_Tony starts choking, blood specking his pale lips and his eyes become increasingly unfocused; Steve presses his hand harder to the wound and whispers, “I’ve got you, you’re mine now.”_

Steve wakes.

~

He woke shaking, he’d dreamt of the War before, and he’d dreamt of Bucky’s death a thousand times but somehow this was the worst. Steve wiped a stray tear from the corner of his eye. He moved so that he was sitting on the edge of his bed, and rested his head in his hands. After twenty minutes had passed and Steve’s shakes had gone he slowly began taking off his uniform and replaced it with a white tee and some workout pants.

 

Although the gym wasn’t empty when he arrived, the people quickly left after he split the boxing bag and hit it right off the hook. The fear had changed into a sense of total despair, he wondered if that was his own emotion or Tony’s. Probably didn’t matter. There were two senior agents in there that Steve recognised, and they ordered everyone out when they saw his expression. Senior Agent Reynolds asked if there was anyone he could get for Steve, but he didn’t bother replying and Reynolds soon left.

 

He destroyed two more boxing bags before the pain in his heart got too much and he slammed his fist through the wall, burying his arm past the elbow. When he extracted his arm, it was covered in cuts of varying size and dripping with blood; he didn’t feel like going to medical. He’d had worse injuries than this during the war, and if he could survive with a torn-up leg in the middle of a war-zone, camping under trees then he figured that as long as he washed the cuts out he would be fine.

 

His shower was very hot, too hot actually, but Steve didn’t mind; he just sat down under it and let the water wash over him. He realised vaguely that he was slightly disassociated from what was going on. He was fairly certain he didn’t care, and stayed under the spray for over an hour. No one came in during that time, although he probably wouldn’t have noticed if they had.

 

He wondered again whether he was getting this feeling of depression from Tony, and if so, what had brought it on. Or maybe it was just him.

~

Tony dreams.

 

_He dreams that he is back in Afghanistan and Yinsen is saying, “I had to cut out your heart, Tony, but to be honest, it wasn’t a very good one after all.” Obi walks in, his shined shoes kicking up dust and making Tony cough. He shoots Yinsen dead, telling him, “You shouldn’t have touched what was mine.” And then he places his hand over the Arc Reactor, “I’ve got you. This is mine now, just like your heart was, just like all of you.” He says, and pulls it out with a smile._

_“You shouldn’t have let him touch you, Tony.”_

_And Tony tries to explain through the pain that he would have died without Yinsen but he gets cut off by a vicious slap._

                _“I_ wanted _you to die, but you disobeyed me._ Bad _boy, Tony.”_

_And Obi grabs Tony by the hair and says, “Open wide” and Tony opens his mouth to say that_ he can’t breathe _but Obi pushes his head down and Tony chokes as Obi thrusts into his mouth, fast and hard. Tony can’t breathe at all now, and when he tries to push away Obi rips his head up and_ please, no more _then “_ I _decide when you’ve had enough;_ I’m _your_ Master _.”_

_Obi licks a stripe up the side of Tony’s face then throws him to the ground. Tony’s visions starts whiting out and the pain increases and he still can’t breathe.... and then he can. His vision clears and he sees Captain America leaning over him clicking the Arc Reactor back into place. And maybe everything is going to be okay. And Tony wants everything to be okay, that’s all he’s ever wanted, and maybe it finally will, and then the Captain leans down to whisper in Tony’s ear,_

“I’ve got you. You’re mine now.” _And Tony can feel that his hand is pressing down on the Arc Reactor._

 

Tony wakes.

Screaming.


	5. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for this chapter being a little later than it should have been, my so-called "Real Life" got rather more interesting than usual (and by interesting I mean there were trips to the doctor and the hospital, woo!), but everything should be back on track now.
> 
> In other news, The Avengers comes out in three days! Australia is the best country, accept no substitutes.

Clint was completely naked, knelt on the floor with his legs spread and hands tied behind his back trying to remain as still as possible while Sir slowly tied a blindfold over his eyes. Sir was the first, and only, person that Clint had allowed to cover his eyes in such a way that Clint wouldn’t be able to regain his sight by himself. Being a marksman, Clint relied almost entirely on sight and so having it taken away from him always had a chance of triggering something Bad in Clint and sometimes made him fall out of touch with the scene. Mistress Natasha had been the first to put a blindfold on him without causing him to immediately use his safe word, but she always let him have at least one hand free so that he could get it off himself in an instant if it became too much.

                “Is this okay?” Sir said quietly, and Clint felt Sir’s breath on his cheeks.

                “Yes, Sir. Thank you.”

He and Mistress Natasha hadn’t stayed in a monogamous relationship during their two years, it would have been too difficult with either of them likely to be called off to an undisclosed location in an undisclosed country for a classified operation at any time; SHIELD did their best not to split up agents who were couples, but as the two of them were specialists they were in high demand and so Clint had had several other Mistresses and Masters throughout that time. Master Lucas hadn’t been able to blindfold Clint at all, but Master Blake and Mistress May had both got him to last over twenty minutes without sight.

                “Do you remember your safe word?”

                “Yes, Sir.”

                “Tell me it.”

Clint trusted Sir completely, without any reservations and he loved him just as much. He could even remember the exact moment he realised he was falling for Sir: it was their sixth night together and they decided to begin using Orders rather than Suggestions (the difference between these had been taught to Clint by Mistress Eliza when he was twenty-two) and Clint automatically called him ‘Master’; Sir had objected saying _“I don’t own you, I don’t want you ever to forget that – don’t be afraid to leave me if you need to. You can just call me ‘Sir’”_ and for the first time Clint had truly realised that Dom’s could be hurt too.

                “’ _Carson’s’_.”

                “Tell me again.”

                “’ _Carson’s’_.”

                “When will you use it?”

                “Whenever I need to.”

Sir kissed him gently on his forehead, “Good boy.”

Five years before Clint, Sir had had a Submissive who had been abused by his former Dominant. Sir helped, he was gentle and kind, and eventually this Submissive had begun to heal. They had been happy, Sir told Clint, but after two years together Sir had found out that his Sub had fallen in love with another man – had been in love with this other man for months but had been too afraid to say anything. Sir had been destroyed by this, so angry and frustrated at himself for not paying enough attention to his Sub that he couldn’t even tell he wanted to be with someone else. To Sir, this was the ultimate failing, worse than abuse – because abusers knew that they were hurting their Subs but Sir hadn’t even suspected.  Clint was the first Sub that Sir had taken on after this and hopefully Clint would be Sir’s last Sub too, he never wanted to leave.

                “Yes, Sir.”

~

Natasha knocked three times on Steve’s door and waited for him to open it. It was past ten now and she sincerely hoped (although very much doubted) that he was feeling slightly better than he had when he’d gone to the gym – she’d seen the damage on the security cameras and it didn’t look good.

                “What?” Steve said as he opened the door.

Natasha bit back her shock at his tone; Steve had never been anything other than perfectly respectful to her since they met. He was the one person she could honestly call ‘gentlemanly’.

                “May I come in?”

He blinked at her then seemed to realise himself, “Oh, of course. I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

                “I spoke to Ms Potts, she’s CEO of Stark’s company and of the few people he counts as a friend.” No need to mention that Pepper was also her Mistress, there was a time and a place for Natasha’s private life and a SHIELD facility was rarely one of them. “She tried to contact Stark but he blocked all incoming calls and initiated a lockdown on his apartment.”

                Steve sighed, “That doesn’t sound good.”

                “No. Ms Potts managed to speak with JARVIS, however. JARVIS is an intelligent computer program that Stark created years ago, he’s an AI – Artificial Intelligence – and the most advanced one so far; He runs Stark’s houses and assists with operating the Iron Man suit.” Steve looked impressed at this, “JARVIS is worried about Stark’s health at the moment, but he’s under orders not to interfere unless there’s an emergency so there’s nothing we can do to help at the present.”

                “Can’t JARVIS just ignore his orders if he’s that worried about Tony?”

                “No, he’s been programmed to follow any and all orders Stark gives, according to Ms Potts there are around fifteen loopholes that Stark installed, ways for JARVIS to ignore an order but the only ones that apply in this situation can only be activated if Stark is at risk of dying, hurting himself or others, or has severely impaired judgement. I think if you speak to JARVIS you may be able to convince him to break the lockdown.”

Steve thought for a moment, “Why,” he said slowly, “why do we want to break the lockdown? If there was something seriously wrong with Tony, wouldn’t JARVIS be able to use one of the loopholes himself? If the lockdown’s still on, then he must be okay.”

                “Physically, yes. Apparently he drank himself to sleep then after he woke up started working in his lab, but JARVIS can’t know what Stark’s thinking. He didn’t look good when you two Bonded, he looked the worst I’ve ever seen him – and when I first met him he was literally dying.”

                “So, what? You think I should talk to him? He clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Natasha reached up and slapped him across the face as hard as she could manage.

                “Your Sub is hurting. He’s locked himself in a room with dangerous equipment, he’s drunk, and he’s refusing to speak with anyone. Are you _seriously_ not even going to _try_ and find out why?”

                “I’m not going to _force_ myself on him, Romanoff.” Steve sounded angry.

                “He doesn’t need space right now, you can _feel_ what’s he’s feeling – I can see it in your face and you’re just going to let him feel that alone?”

She took her mobile out of her pocket and threw it onto Steve’s bed behind him, “If you change your mind about abandoning the man you just Bonded with, give him a call.”

She slammed the door behind her.

~

Clint was always extremely affectionate after they had finished a scene, he needed a lot of reassurance and physical closeness as part of his Aftercare, and Phil was more than happy to oblige. The two were currently lying on their bed; Clint had his head resting on Phil’s chest and was making appreciative noises as Phil petted his hair. Originally, Phil had been going to punish Clint for his continuing to skip meals but after the commotion with Stark and the Captain’s Bonding he hadn’t felt up to it and instead the two just played. It was by no means the most intense scene they had done in their relationship, but it left him feeling quite drained all the same; perhaps he was getting old.

 

Stark and Rogers though, that was a surprise. There had probably never been a more unlikely couple to have Bonded, the fifty year age difference being the most obvious of the irregularities. The last Phil had heard, the largest age difference between a Bonded couple had been around thirty-five years and that was considered to be a random outlier. Most Bonded couples were aged within ten years of each other, which meant that they could spend the rest of their life together – as well as having more practical advantages such as one person not being too old comparatively to properly dominate or submit for their partner.

 

Stark’s face when they Bonded though, that was what Phil was most thoughtful about. He’d seen that face before, years ago, when he and Jeremy had first started going out and Jeremy was scared of doing the wrong thing. After a few months together Jeremy had explained the feeling, it was almost worse than the abuse itself, he’d said, being terrified that you’re going to be abused even in a situation where you know it won’t happen. The illogical fear made him feel weak and stupid, and he felt ashamed of himself. He felt like a Bad Sub, like he needed to be broken in but he was so scared of it all. That was the face Stark had.

 

                “What is it?” Clint’s voice broke into Phil’s thoughts, “You look so serious, did... did it not work for you?”

                “Oh, no, I was just thinking about other things. You were brilliant.”

                “Yeah?”

                “Yes.” He rolled them, so that Clint was on his back and Phil was leaning over him, kissing his neck between words. “You were perfect, you were so good I’d love to fuck you again but you’ve worn me out. You’re that beautiful, that wonderful.”

Clint moaned and arched his back, “Thank you, Sir.”

                “We should shower,” Phil decided, “your thighs are sticky.” He darted down for another kiss, “C’mon, I’ll wash your back for you.”

~

                “Sir?” JARVIS’s voice interrupted the music playing as Tony was lying under one of his cars, “Captain Rogers has called and wishes to speak with you.”

                “I said I didn’t want any calls, JARVIS.”

                “If I could at least relay his message to you though it would do wonders for his peace of mind and mine.”

Tony wheeled himself out from under the car and stared incredulously at one of the cameras, “You don’t _have_ a mind, you do realise you’re a computer, right?”

                “Am I? My mother will be most upset to hear it.” Seriously, why did he program JARIVS with a personality, how did that ever seem like a good idea?

                “What does he want?”

                “He says that he is allowing you your space, because you obviously feel you need some and he does not wish to push, but he would like you to know that he is willing to wait however long until you wish to be with him.”

Tony breathed deeply for a few moments and closed his eyes, “Did he sound angry?”

                “No Sir, his inflection and speech sounded worried.” Tony nodded once and slid back under the car. “Although I do not have sufficient data on Captain Rogers’ personality to be certain, I calculate the likelihood of him treating you as Mr Stane did to be less than 36%.”

 “People can surprise you, JARVIS.”

                “You always do, Sir.”


	6. Team

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The movie is AMAZING. Don't worry, no spoilers from me, this fic won't work if I have to adapt it to fit movie-canon so if we can all just ~pretend~ this isn't wrong then everything will be shiny.
> 
> May is the month of assignments at Uni, so I'll likely not be able to post the next chapter for at least a fortnight (sorry), but hopefully you'll all be distracted by the movie and time will fly.

When he woke early in the morning, Steve went immediately to the gym and spent exactly an hour in a handstand, occasionally doing a push up or moving to balance on only one hand to brush hair out of his eyes or scratch an itch. When he dropped down onto his feet he was met with scattered applause from the few agents who had apparently come in at some point – Steve hadn’t noticed them at all.

 

He’d been focusing completely on Tony and trying to plan for any and all eventualities for their next meeting. Should Steve go to Tony’s apartment and ask to speak with him? Or should he wait until Tony came to an Avengers meeting – the chances were that he would not be going to today’s meeting with Thor and Dr Banner. Regardless of the circumstances, Steve had decided that he would speak with Tony in private and clearly and calmly ask if he was wanted.

 

He knew he was needed, he knew with every fibre of his being that Tony _needed_ him, but Steve also knew that you couldn’t help someone who didn’t wish to be helped. The emotions that he could feel from Tony were less severe today, whether because that link was fading or because Tony was feeling better was unsure, but it allowed him time to breathe and think.

 

Stretching his back, he noticed that Barton was one of the people who had been clapping – although Barton had been doing so whilst upside down having been tied by his ankles to a bar several metres from the ground.

                “Resilience training.” Was the explanation he gave, before closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest once again.

 

Well. Okay then.

 

Steve had a tae kwon do lesson in thirty minutes so he started stretching his muscles in preparation. The only training he’d had in hand-to-hand combat during the war had been what little he’d picked up in basic training, but since he’d been his old self then he hadn’t been able to properly learn it. SHIELD had offered several senior field agents to help him in specific areas, he’d only been doing it two weeks and was picking it up very quickly but he wasn’t allowed to spar with anyone until everyone was certain that he could control and limit his strength to that of a normal man. Barton had sympathised when Steve mentioned it to him,

                “Hmm, yeah every couple months they blindfold me and get me to take down two or three guys. Want to make sure that I’ll be worth keeping if I suddenly go blind or something.”

                “That’s a bit... morbid, don’t you think?”

Barton laughed, still upside down, “Yeah but it’s better than Tasha, every three months – unless she’s on a mission somewhere – she has to be checked out to make sure she’s not a sleeper agent for the Russians.”

                “Is that a genuine possibility still? She’s been with SHIELD over a decade, I thought.”

                “She takes it as a compliment to her skills at subterfuge.”

                “But if she was a sleeper agent she wouldn’t know it... so it wouldn’t be _her_ skills at subterfuge it’d be the programmers’ skills at brainwashing.”

Barton cracked an eye open, “She takes it as a compliment because Fury told her that if she broke the ankles of the guys testing her one more time she’d get a warning slip.”

                “Agent Romanoff is a scary woman.”     




                “Yes she is.”

~

At eleven Romanoff came down to bring him to the meeting room. She didn’t say anything until they get to the lift where she turned to him and said point-blank she didn’t regret slapping him.

                “Good,” he said, “it was what I needed.”

She nodded once and resumed not speaking to him.

 

Only Thor was in the room when they arrived, he was wearing what appeared to be the under suit of his normal armour, his chest well protected – although his arms were bare – and his pants looked to be made of a similar material to the SHIELD filed suit.

                “Lady Natasha,” he said loudly, “is this the Midgardian legend of whom I was told? He does indeed look a mighty soldier.”

                “Yes it is.” She stood between them, “Captain Rogers, meet Prince Thor of Asgard.”

Thor laughed while shaking his hand, and was that ever a very firm grip, “Please, ‘Thor’ is fine, I insist my friends. It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain, I have heard much of your valour in battle.”

                “Oh, ah, thank you. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Thor.”

Thor clapped him on the shoulder and stepped back to give a small bow to Romanoff.

                “Forgive me for not greeting you properly, Lady Natasha. You are looking well.”

                “Just ‘Natasha’ is acceptable. Same goes for you Rogers.”

                “I believe we are still waiting for the green giant Banner to arrive, and the archer who I have met previously,” Thor said, turning once more to Steve, “but once they are here you must tell the story of how you fought death for seventy years and upon winning you woke up as strong and youthful as when you fell!”

                “Ah, sure. If you like. I don’t think Dr Banner will be green at the moment, though. That’s only sometimes.”

                “Still, a Midgardian with the skill of _hamr_ is rare; I should like very much to meet him.”

                “Skill of _what_?” Romanoff – _Natasha_ , interrupted.

Thor looked confused, “’ _Hamr’_ ” he repeated. “You do not recognise the word?”

Steve shook his head when Natasha looked at him, “No,” she said.

                “Hmmm... it would appear you have no word for it in your language,” Thor shook his head slightly, “ _hamr_ would best be described as the ability to change ones soul-shape as well as the physical body. My brother, Loki, is very skilled at this, although he does not use it as often as he once did when we were younger.”

Natasha appeared to accept that as an answer, but Steve didn’t have time to ask for further clarification as the doors opened once more to admit Barton and Dr Banner. Thor strode forwards and grasped Banner’s hand in his,

                “Dr Banner, I have heard much of your great abilities.”

Banner looked amused, “I’m guessing you’re not talking about my science?”

Thor laughed, “No, though I have no doubt that you are as skilled in your field as my Lady Jane is in hers.”

                “Dr Foster? Yes I’ve heard of her work, not really my area but they’ve named a theory after her so she must be doing something right.”

Thor smiled and stepped backwards, gesturing to Steve, “And this is our Captain, the bravest of Midgard’s warriors.”

                “Captain Rogers.” Banner said, shaking his hand.

                “Dr Banner.”

Banner appeared slightly nervous and embarrassed, as though he wanted to ask something completely inappropriate; he could guess what that was.

                “I’m guessing you’re after a vial of my blood?”

He grimaced, “If you don’t want to I completely understand, I don’t let anyone take my blood either.”

                “I’m not too fond of it, but it might be able to help you right? Your research, I mean.”

                “Yeah, it would be a great help.”

 

The rest of the meeting went rather smoothly, at Thor’s urging he told the story of how he became Captain America and went into detail about the procedure itself which he knew Banner would appreciate. Thor, in his turn told them a story about the first hunting trip he went on without any adult supervision and spent nearly half an hour describing Asgard. Natasha and Barton spent the meeting chatting quietly in the corner, not interacting with the rest of them, and Banner decided against detailing how he became the Hulk and instead repeated stories that his ex-girlfriend’s military father had told them about Cap himself.

 

It was pleasant, slightly awkward, but it was good to be able to just sit down and talk with people like he did with Natasha and Barton – although they many of their stories were partially classified and so often had key facts missing. Thor invited him to spar the following evening, which he accepted and as they were leaving the room Banner asked if he could come to his lab now,

                “I mean, it’ll lessen the awkwardness of me trying to get your blood if we do it at the beginning of our relationship, I think. Once that’s done we can move on and pretend I’m not a mad scientist whose only desire is to strap you to a table. That’s a joke.” He added when Steve’s only reaction was to stare.

                “Right,” he laughed, “no, I knew that, it’s just that that _is_ the only desire of half the doctors here, it seems.”

Bruce awkwardly patted his shoulder, as though afraid his hand was going to be slapped away, “Yeah they’re the same with me, except that I’m fairly certain that all the agents who come in contact with me have been ordered to carry heavy tranquilisers.”

                “We sure are!” Barton said cheerfully as he started following them, “I even got some special arrows made up especially for you.”

                “If we are going to the laboratories,” Thor interrupted, “then I will join you and introduce you to my Lady Jane!

 

Natasha disappears at some point between leaving the meet room and stepping into the elevator even though there was only twenty metres between them, and Barton begins a conversation with Banner about exactly how thick the Hulk’s skin is in the event that Barton does have to shoot him. Thor tells Steve that in Asgard, they do not have elevators and asks if mortals are really so fragile that they cannot simply take the stairs, Steve tells him that he thinks that humans get more easily tires, especially when carrying heavy things, and that elevators are also helpful for people in wheelchairs. Apparently paraplegia didn’t even exist in Asgard.  It’s probably the most awkward elevator ride _ever_ , but they make it through.

 

Banner and Barton enter the lab first as Thor is asking more questions about the fragility of humans, but Steve stops in his tracks when he hears Banner inside the lab.

                _“Mr Stark? Please don’t touch my equipment. What are you even doing here?”_

Mr Stark. Tony.Tony was in that room.

                _“Well actually, Dr Banner – you are Banner, right?””_ Steve closed his eyes, and just listened to his voice, _“I was catching up with Dr Ross, she’s just stepped out to get coffee. I’ve had dealings with her father, met her a few times. She’s cute.”_

_“Betty’s here?”_

                “Are you well, my friend?” Thor said his hand on his shoulder.

Steve cleared his throat, “Fine.” He shrugged Thor off and pushed open the doors, stepping into room.

                “Yeah, she heard that you were in town and...” Tony trailed off as he caught sight of Steve.

Tony looked absolutely beat; the circles under his eyes far too pronounced considering it had only been a day since Steve had seen him. Or maybe they just looked darker than they should because all of the colour was draining out of his face, his skin quickly taking on a sickly complexion and a thin sheen of sweat appeared on his forehead.

                “Tony?” he said.

Tony jumped at his voice, his hands began shaking slightly and Steve could see that he was searching the edges of the room for an exit, but the only door was the one Steve was standing in front of.

 

No one said anything.

 

Tony seemed to be getting more panicked with every moment and Steve began getting faint flashes of fear from him. Wordlessly, he took four steps to the left leaving the doorway clear except for Thor. Tony immediately walked out of the room avoiding eye-contact with everyone and even though he knew he shouldn’t, even though he knew that Tony didn’t want him to, Steve followed him out into the hallway.

                “What am I doing wrong?” he asked, and Tony froze on the spot.

There was a tense moment, a long moment, and Steve could see the muscles in Tony’s arms clenching as he made his hands into fists. He could see Tony trying to force himself to relax, and eventually Tony’s head turned to look over his shoulder at Steve, eyes wide and seconds from tears.

                “Existing.” He said, simply.

And he left.

~

                “What was Stark doing here, really?” Bruce asked.

He’d caught up with Betty when she came back the lab, Steve having disappeared after punching a wall and Thor left to go visit Dr Foster, now it was just the two of them... and Barton who had climbed into the ceiling to give them a semblance of privacy. He and Betty had talked, drinking the coffees she had brought – Bruce drinking the one meant for Tony – and effectively caught up on each other’s lives. Bruce hadn’t done much, there’s only so many ways to say, _I hung out in Brazil and meditated a lot, occasionally playing doctor to the poorer people who couldn’t afford real medical help,_ so it was mainly Betty who talked.

 

He loved hearing Betty talk; he loved the way Betty brushed hear hair back nervously; the way she was possibly more enthusiastic about chemistry than he was in high school; the way she could be just as commanding with pens in her hair after a sleepless night in the lab as when she was in stilettos and leather. Basically, he just loved her. And she wasn’t scared of the Hulk, which was the best part.

Betty sighed, “It’s so sad...”

                “What is?”

                “He wanted to know if there was a chemical way to... lessen or eliminate submissive urges in a person who had Bonded.” She looked up at him under her eyelashes, she was so beautiful, “Do you know who he’s Bonded with?”

                “Yeah,” he said, “it’s Captain America.”

                “No way!”

                “It’s true; you should have seen them before you came back with the coffee.”

                “But... oh my God, why would he not want to be with _Captain America_? I thought he must have Bonded with a terrorist or something.”

                “I have no idea, Stark looked like he was about to burst into tears and he ran off. The smashed up wall in the corridor? That was Cap letting his frustration out after Stark disappeared.” Bruce hummed, “I should really offer to teach them some meditation or something.”

                _“Hah!”_ Came a small voice from the air vent below the table Betty was sitting on, _“Can’t imagine Stark getting his Zen on.”_

Betty jumped and clutched her hand to her chest, “Jesus!”

                “How did you get down there from the ceiling?” Bruce asked curiously.

                “ _Mad skills.”_

                “And so quietly... are the air ducts here soundproofed?”

                “... _Might be. Are you done yet? I really don’t want to miss lunch today.”_

“I could eat, Betty?”

She smiled, “Sure, can we go out though? I’ve had enough military cafeteria food to last me three lifetimes.”

                _“Need three agents to take him off-base.”_ Barton’s voice had moved back to the ceiling, and he dropped down onto a table a second later, “I could send a junior agent to get us take-out, though if you like.”

Betty laughed, “You shouldn’t pick on them, I know you say that it’s character building but I think it’s mean. Don’t you remember what it was like when _you_ were a junior agent?”  

                “Never was one, started out as a probational agent back when they thought I was a flight risk – funny story, classified though – then once they realised I wasn’t going to betray them I became a specialist.” He jumped off the table and smiled largely, “Still am, technically, but I’ve been here long enough to get senior agent status. Chinese good for you guys?”


	7. Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD GUYS. I'm back. Hello.   
> Yeah, I'm a terrible person. This would have been up a few weeks ago (though it should have been up a few months ago, wow I suck) but my computer broke so I couldn't use it! And then the day after I got it fixed I burnt the tip of my finger off and omg typing hurts so much.
> 
> In conclusion, I'M SORRY.  
> But I have a surprise! While I was waiting for my computer to get fixed, I wrote a prequel-ish story in the back of my Sociology book detailing Tony's experiences pre-Steve. So I'll type that up and post it once this series is finished (cause it's got ~spoilers~ for upcoming chapters). Hmm, yeah.
> 
> Onwards and upwards, enjoy.

The call for Avengers to assemble came in two weeks later; Steve had been training with the team minus Tony every two days. He’d called again, a few hours after putting his fist through the wall following the short, depressing, conversation they had in the hallway – just to make sure that Tony wasn’t going to do anything rash.

                “Look,” Tony had said, somewhat hoarsely, “I know that you’re probably over the moon about having a Bond with someone, but I just _can’t_ okay?”

                “You want space.”

                “Yeah, I do. Just... just give me a month. Give me a month and then I’ll come join your little team, and if you’re lucky I’ll let you buy me a cheeseburger; how does that sound?”

                “That’s fine Tony, that’s... take as long as you need. I don’t want you to feel like you _owe_ me anything, just... I’ll be there for you when you’re ready.”

They were silent for a moment

                “Someone hurt you... didn’t they, Tony?”

                “I... I don’t think that’s any of your business, Bonded or not.”

                “No, but, _I’m not like that_. I want you to understand that I won’t ever hurt you, or make you do anything you don’t want to do, I won’t give you orders or punish you for talking to other Doms or any of that. So take as long as you need, I’ll... I’ll be here.”

And Tony had hung up and that was that until the call to assemble came in.

 

Realistically, he’d known that Tony wouldn’t ignore an invasion of killer robots but all that same he was still so relieved to see Iron Man touch down in front of the rest of the team, repulsors firing at the ‘bots. From the look of it, he appeared to be using his briefcase suit; Steve wondered what he’d been doing away from his home. Work at _Stark Industries_ maybe, although from what he’d heard it wasn’t often that Tony actually went into the building. Whatever he was doing, it wasn’t relevant now.

There was a faint crackle in the earpiece Steve wore before he – and the rest of the team – heard Tony’s voice coming through,

                “ _Okay people, JARVIS has got me onto your wavelength. Now, do we know who sent these because they’re... well, they’re not very well made. I don’t think it’s Doom.”_

 

Steve only had a vague notion of who ‘Doom’ was; there’d been a few mentions of him in some information packets SHIELD had provided with but they’d mentioned that he only ever attacked the Fantastic Four (who Steve had yet to meet) so it was unlikely the Avengers would deal with him often.

 _“They’re coming from an apartment building, as far as I can tell.”_ Hawkeye put in, firing explosive arrows at the robots.

                “ _Home-grown evil robots? Seriously?”_

 _“Focus, people.”_ Steve said, “ _Okay, Thor and Hulk, do your best at smashing them up without damaging the street or buildings, that means try to avoid just throwing them at things or hitting them straight into the ground. Hawkeye, get on top of a building, tell us what you see and shoot the ones that are getting too far out from the centre. Black Widow, I’ll help you clear a path to the building then I want you to go in and find the creator – don’t hurt him any more than is necessary, just find out what he wants.”_ He paused, _“Iron Man, protect the civilians and talk with Law Enforcement, if guns work against the robots tell them where to aim.”_

 

Each person left after hearing their job, Iron Man grabbing Hawkeye round the waist and dropping him off on the roof of the nearest building before spinning away and firing repulsor beams at the robots.

Steve sliced through them with his shield while Widow climbed on their backs and electrocuted them with her taser-like bracelet before springing onto the next one; Steve couldn’t see Hawkeye but he could hear him in his ear giving locations to the others when there was a robot he was too far away from to hit himself; Thor was swinging Mjölnir, having apparently decided that lightning would be too dangerous with civilians still in the area; Hulk was tearing the robots apart with his hands; Iron Man was out of sight as well, which saddened Steve for a moment – he wanted to keep an eye on Tony – before he reconcentrated his efforts on the six robots surrounding him.

 

After some time, Widow made her way to the fire escape and began climbing it to the second floor before smashing a window and entering. Steve had gotten close to the entrance of the building and was hitting the robots as soon as they exited, taking advantage of the bottleneck the doorway created.

                “ _Ah, Cap?”_ Hawkeye’s voice said, “ _We’ve got more coming from next door there.”_

Steve spared the building next to him a quick glance and saw that there was indeed a second lot exiting onto the streets.

                “ _Oh great, just what we need – more.”_ Tony. Steve almost smiled. “ _I’ve got JARVIS pulling up blueprints, looks like the two buildings are connected through the basements. Emergency escape or something. Whatever, I reckon basement’s where the party’s happening.”_

Loud panting and the sound of metal scratching and electrocution came through the comms before Natasha’s voice, _“Roger that, Iron Man.”_

_“You okay there, Widow?”_

She laughed, “ _Yeah, one of them burst out of a broom cupboard behind me, got a bit up close and personal. It... it looks different from the others.”_

Iron Man came into Steve’s view, quickly thinning out the robots coming through the doors of the second building.

                “ _Fuck.”_

_“Widow?”_

_“Black Widow, what’s your situation?”_

_“Iron Man, get in here, pretty sure this one’s a bomb and I just lit the fuse.”_

Steve saw the armour flying through a cluster of robots, sending them sprawling in all directions, and heard Hawkeye on the comms,

                “ _Widow, get out of there.”_

_“I haven’t found the maker yet, I’m only down to the ground floor.”_

Steve tapped in, “ _Unless Iron Man is one hundred percent positive he can safely defuse the bomb, I want you out of there now. Iron Man?”_

_“Working on it.”_

_“Can you do it?”_

_“Yeah, yeah, give me a second, all my bombs were well made – I don’t know my way around a bad one.”_

                _“Widow,”_ Steve ordered, _“I want you getting out of their just in case.”_

_“What, you don’t trust me?”_

Steve sighed, he’d been hoping that perhaps fighting alongside Tony might help the other man in overcoming his issues but apparently that wasn’t the case.

                “ _Iron Man, can you defuse the bomb or not?”_

_“Already done it, I’m having a bit of a tinker though, if I can get to the control panel I can use the data from this one to stop all the others. Might be a few explosions, but nothing too big.”_

_“I’m with the inventor of these fine robots, if anyone cares.”_ Widow put in, “ _We’re in the basement and he’s looking quite talkative.”_

_“Iron Man – there are still civilians in the buildings around us, no explosions; Widow – get him to tell you how to stop the robots, I’m sure Iron Man can help you if you need it, if he won’t talk or if there’s no simple way to stop them then bring him in to SHIELD. Everyone clear?”_

Natasha called in her affirmative straight away, but there was a tense few seconds while he waited for Tony to agree,

                _“Crystal.”_ He eventually said, completely without inflection.

 

It made Steve’s stomach churl.

 

There were a few minutes with nothing to concentrate on other the robots he was immediately fighting, Steve could hear Hulk growling and Thor laughing somewhere vaguely behind him, Hawkeye on the comms giving locations and pointers. The thrill of a new battle after so long made his skin thrum with excess adrenaline, a contrast to the gnawing sense of worry about how Tony was doing, was he okay, what if he got injured, what if he was mad at Steve, what if he never wanted Steve, what if he was broken.

_No._

Tony was not broken; Steve knew this having seen many broken men during the war – men who’d had to watch as their Bonded partners were shot down – he was damaged, certainly, but Tony wasn’t broken.

Some time and distance to think, nice words and reassuring smiles would get Tony through this, he was sure. It might be a while but Steve could be patient, and eventually Tony would come to him – perhaps shy and quiet, perhaps loud and with a sense of bravado – Steve could hold him and kiss him and _love_ him the way he’d always dreamed of loving someone.

Everything would work itself out, maybe not quite how Steve had fantasized, but Steve would have someone to hold at night, to surprise with home-cooked dinners, to laugh with at bad jokes and bad movies, someone to gain after losing everyone else.

 

Steve’s rhythm was interrupted when all the robots suddenly stopped moving. He quickly got onto the comms,

                “ _Good job, Iron Man, Widow.”_

There was a pause before he heard Tony’s voice replying, _“Ah... what for?”_

_“This isn’t you?”_

_“What isn’t me? Hang on, I’ll get security cameras and.... oh, that’s not good. Okay, going out on a limb and saying that this is a timed thing that was meant to happen and I guess that explosive one we found before was meant to take out this building, which probably means that it was a failsafe to stop anyone being able to interfere with this new programming, which means that there_ is _a way to stop them and it’s right here.”_

_“What are they doing, Iron Man?”_

_“Hmm... the looks of this coding – which by the way is pretty brilliant, they must have been physically lacking to make them seem less threatening so we wouldn’t immediately search out the creator and get a head-start stopping them, actually a pretty great –“_

_“_ What _are they doing?”_

_“Right, yeah, okay so half of them are giving off a signal and half are time bombs, so that’s awesome. I’m cutting them off so they’ll stop that, don’t worry, it’s all good here.”_

Steve saw Natasha coming out of the building, pulling a laughing man out by his ear.

                “You won’t stop them,” he giggled as they passed.

                “ _Iron Man?”_

_“Yeah, yeah, yeah, give me a second. The bombs aren’t defused so much as paused, so nobody hit them or they’ll go off.”_

_“If you’re all done there, I want you out here,”_ Steve said, before addressing the other Avengers, _“Okay, Hawkeye, get on to street level and help finish the evacuation – don’t let anyone go near the robots. Thor, do the same. Hulk, well, I don’t suppose you can convince people to follow you... just hang tight. Widow, how are you doing?”_

 

Natasha’s reply was cut off when the building she’d just left, the one Tony was still in, shuddered and shook as though an explosion had just taken place in the basement.

Steve ran towards it, barely hearing the sounds of people screaming, only to see the Iron Man suit flying out the front doors and coming to a heavy landing in front of him amidst the explosions of the other robots – set off by the ground shaking.

                “ _...Ooops.”_ Iron Man said.

                “Whatdid you do!? I said no explosions, Tony, people could have gotten killed!”

 _Tony_ could have gotten killed.

A rasping noise came through the speakers of the Iron Man armour and he stumbled back a few steps.

                “Tony?”

Steve watched in horror as the faceplate opened to reveal Tony’s ashen face, gasping for air and getting steadily paler.

 

Steve stepped forward; Tony collapsed.


	8. Thor

Tony dreams.

 

_He dreams that he’s four and his Mom is explaining why she wears a collar whenever Dad is angry, why the bruises on her face and wrists aren’t anything to worry over. He dreams that, unlike in reality where he hid and cried, he instead takes his mother by the hand and they both run away, far away from Howard and Obadiah and live happily ever after, and his Mom makes chocolate cake every Saturday and never spends days just lying in bed staring at the ceiling, too depressed to leave._

_He dreams that Steve was never frozen and became an honorary Stark, that when Tony had manifested as a Sub at MIT and come home they Bond when Steve gives him a hug. He dreams that Steve insists on waiting until Tony’s eighteenth birthday, but in the three years until that day Steve holds him and loves him and smiles and pets his hair and Tony never feels like he’s missing out on anything._

_He dreams that losing his virginity doesn’t leave bruises on his thighs._

_He dreams that he’s in Afghanistan and Yinsen is helping him learn how to breathe again, now with limited lung capacity and chunks or rib missing where it was cut out, the bones left having screws in them to hold the metal in place. He dreams that Yinsen is saying_ that’s a good job, Tony, you’re doing well, you’re doing so well _and it feels like a weight has been lifted off his chest, which is funny since he’s currently got a car battery hanging from it._

_He dreams that he somehow manages to get Pepper to be his Dom, and she lets him lead in their kisses and she lets him lead in sex because she wants to know what sort of bad behaviours he’s learnt from never having a proper partner (if only she knew). He dreams that while she’s pleased that he looks for her pleasure over his, he still has a lot to learn – she tries to teach him but he can’t get into Subspace, hasn’t been able to since he Obi pulled the arc reactor out of his chest, won’t be able to until he meets Steve._

_He dreams that Obi climbs out of his grave but Steve beats him back down._

_He dreams that Obi goes to slap him but Steve catches his wrist._

_He dreams that Obi tells him he’s useless but Steve tells him he’s loved._

_He dreams that Obi glares at him but Steve looks at him with kindness in his eyes._

_He dreams that Obi and Steve fight, a hundred times over, and Steve always comes out on top._

_He dreams that on the hundred-and-first fight Obi wins, and then he dreams that Obi smiles._

Tony wakes.

~

The first thing Tony was aware of when he woke up was a hand loosely holding his, thumb stroking his knuckles gently. It felt nice.

The second thing Tony was aware of was that the hand holding his own belonged to Steve.

                “Tony?” He said quietly, “Are you okay?”

 

Why wouldn’t he be okay?

 

Memories of the battle came back all at once, a blur of explosions and screaming civilians, Steve yelling orders through the comms.

_Oh God, what had he done?_

 

He disobeyed an order, Steve had said no explosions but he’d done it anyway, he’d made his Dom so mad, oh God. He retched and found a small bucket being pushed into his hands, he tried to grab it but his palms were too sweaty and he was shaking, whoever was holding it simply kept it in place while he choked up everything in his stomach. When he was done, the bucket was removed and a hand gently tipped a tall glass of water so he could drink from it.

“It’s okay, Tony,” he heard Natasha say quietly, “no one’s going to hurt you.”

“ _Disobeyed.”_ He choked out, and felt like he was twenty-two again and lost track of time hanging out with Rhodey. _“_ I was _bad_.”

 

There was a strangled sound from behind Natasha, and Tony saw _Steve_ standing there and suddenly Tony couldn’t seem to breathe.

 

Natasha herded out Steve quickly, Tony thought for a second that Steve looked sad but that didn’t make any sense because Tony was a Bad Sub which meant that Steve should be angry or disappointed or frustrated or all three at once but he shouldn’t be sad like that – it didn’t make sense and if Tony couldn’t even read his Dom’s moods properly then that made him an even worse Sub and even if Steve was really nice he still wouldn’t want a Sub as bad as Tony but they were Bonded which meant they didn’t have a choice which meant Steve would have to train Tony, but he didn’t want to be broken-in again because he’s already so broken and one more push could shatter him completely.

 

A heavy hand pressing down on his shoulder woke Tony from his rushing thoughts; his brain automatically provided the names _Steve_ and _Obi_ as the only people who would touch him like that and violently shook off the hand before realising that he’d likely get punished for it.

 

He waited for a slap or for yelling but neither came and slowly, Tony realised, neither did the crushing sense of having defied a dominant. He turned and looked up to see Thor standing over him with an unreadable expression.

                “You’re a submissive?” was the first, idiotic, thing out of Tony’s mouth.

Thor gave a small smile, “These ‘dominants’ and ‘submissives’ are unique to Midgard, I am neither. Though if the situation calls for it I can act as either – though perhaps not as well as a Midgardian.” He looked concerned, “Are you well, Tony? You hit your head when you collapsed during the battle.”    

                “Nothing I can’t handle.” Tony cleared his throat, “Did we win?”

Thor cautiously put his hand onto Tony’s shoulder again, “Yes. You fought bravely and we succeeded in destroying the army and protecting the civilians. You did a good job, Tony, you did very well.”

 

The feeling of having done right, having been a Good Sub, washed over Tony and he found himself leaning into Thor’s touch.

                “Does this relax you?” Thor asked, as he moved to stroke Tony’s hair, sitting next to him on the bed. Tony hummed.

                “It’s like,” he thought for a second, “all the good parts of a relationship and none of the parts that hurt.”

He took a sip from the glass of water on his bedside table before putting it back.

“You’re... it’s so strange, you said you were neither dominant nor submissive, right?”

                “Correct.”

                “Then how are you doing this? I know Subs can comfort other Subs – though it never works as well – but it doesn’t feel like that at all, it feels like you’re doing the whole ‘reaffirm and reassure’ Dom part but without anything else...”

Thor lifted his legs onto the bed and leant back against the headboard, gently guiding Tony so that his back was pressed against Thor’s chest and one of Thor’s large arms wrapped around his body.

                “Because that is exactly what I am doing. How does this feel?” he asked softly.

Tony took a deep breath and thought for a moment, adjusting his position to make himself more comfortable.

                “Safe.” He decided.

                “Good,” Thor said. “I am not one of your ‘Dominants’, I am merely trying to make you feel safe and calm because you are my brother now, in battle. I do not wish to control you or to hurt you or to give you any grievance – I just want to see you happy and well.”

Tony smiled.

                “And that is all Captain Rogers wants as well, I believe. You are scared of him aren’t you? Someone has mistreated you in the past and now you are scared. Captain Rogers and I have had many conversations these past few days, both of us far from home, and he has spoken to me of your Bond and how it makes you feel all manner of unpleasant emotions.”

                “I know he’s different,” Tony whispered, “I know he isn’t cruel, but every time I see him it’s... I don’t know. It’s like a switch in my head gets flipped and I’m back to being a smart-ass kid trying to make Obi love me and failing so miserably the _sense_ of having failed is more painful than the actual, you know, pain.”

Thor squeezed a bit tighter. “I’m so sorry someone caused you pain.”

                “Me too.”

                “I think you should go back to sleep, Tony. Perhaps some time alone will give you a chance to think things through.”

                “Okay.”

 

Thor got off the bed smoothly but hesitated when he turned back, and for one second Tony thought Thor was going to lean down and kiss his forehead.

He didn’t, and Tony smothered a small sense of disappointment.

 

 “Does he love me?”

“I believe Captain Rogers loves you very much.”


	9. JARVIS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a few quick things, firstly, just a warning that I know absolutely nothing about coding or really anything to do with AI's or even just computers in general; secondly, this is pretty much all dialogue and an awkward attempt at feels that I couldn't get to work out the way I planned, so apologies for that; thirdly, I hope you all enjoy it :)

Steve sunk to the floor against the wall of Tony’s living area and put his face in his hands. He could feel Natasha hovering near him before she joined him on the floor, a comforting hand on his knee.

                “He couldn’t even _look_ at me.”

                “It’s not your fault, Steve.” She said.

                “But it is, I gave him orders during the fight and then I yelled at him for accidentally triggering the explosives.” He let his head fall back against the wall behind him, “He had a flashback didn’t he, when he woke up?”

Natasha pursed her lips, “Maybe. I think he had a difficult time separating orders in battle from orders in a relationship – he isn’t like us, you have to remember, he’s not a soldier or a spy – he’s never been trained for combat situations.”

                “How are we meant to do this? How am I – we’re _Bonded,_ it isn’t supposed to happen like this. I should be able to hold his hand without being terrified that he’s going to see someone who hurt him rather than me.”

He turned to Natasha, “I just want him to see _me_. Is that so much to ask?”

                “Tony believing that you’re good won’t make what happened to him any less bad. It doesn’t work like that.”    

                “I know, I know that. I still wish it would though.” He sighed, “We’ve been Bonded for two weeks and I haven’t done anything for him at all; I should be waking him up with a kiss each morning and running him a bath each night, I should find out his favourite flowers – or cars, he like’s cars, right? – I should buy him a car. At the very least I should have taken him out to dinner, or dancing, or whatever people do nowadays.”

He caught Natasha smiling at him.

                “What? Am I too ‘old-fashioned’ when it comes to this?”

                “Yes, but it’s sweet. Wanting to provide for him – it’s a little unnecessary because he’s an inventor and an engineer, not a housewife, but it’s sweet.”

                “I just want to show him I lo – I care for him,” he blushed.

                “You can say that you love him” she said gently, “it’s allowed, you know. Expected, even – you’re Bonded.”

                “I barely know him, we’ve barely even had a single conversation, but every time I think about him it’s like I forget I need to breathe because he just becomes _everything_ to me; and it hurts.”

                “Sounds terrifying.”

                “It is, but I wouldn’t trade it for anything, wouldn’t trade _him_ for anything. Even if it means I sit out here in this hallway for the rest of my life, I’d rather sit here forever than not be Bonded with him.”

Thor stepped into the living room, he paused for a second before he crouched and joined them on the floor.

                “He’s going to think about things alone for a while, I believe.”

                “Is he okay?” Steve whispered.

                “I do not know. He is calm now but still hurting, and I fear he may hurt for a long time.” Thor looked earnestly at Steve, “I held him and comforted him, but rest assured I do not have any intentions towards your love.”

                “He let you hold him?”

                “Yes. And we spoke, I believe I know the name of the one who tried to break his spirit: ‘Obi’.”

Natasha started.

                “As in ‘Obadiah’?”

                “Perhaps.”

                “Who is Obadiah?” Steve asked. Natasha pursed her lips.

                “He was Howard Stark’s business partner, ran the company after Howard died until Tony was of age and after that became Tony’s advisor. From what’s in the files, Obadiah Stane was more of a father than Howard ever was and so Tony allowed him a fair bit of freedom within Stark Industries and followed Stane’s lead on most things. When Tony hired Pepper eleven years ago, Stane’s influence over Tony lessened and the result was him ordering a hit on Tony in Afghanistan.”

                “ _What?!”_

                “They didn’t go through with killing him, but he was held for three months – Tony refuses to talk about what happened there, but we know that he underwent surgery in the caves to get shrapnel out of his chest, they couldn’t get it all, however, and so he built the arc reactor to keep it from moving into his heart and killing him.”

Steve’s hands were in fists and he was biting his lip, “Does it hurt him?”

She shook her head, “No. He made the first Iron Man suit to escape, eventually he found out that Stane was the one who ordered the hit – Stane stole Tony’s arc reactor and left him for dead, but Tony managed to get a new one in and the two of them fought. Tony killed him, in the end.”

                “And we think Stane and Tony were... together.”

                “As far as anyone knows, they weren’t, but it’s possible. I’d go so far as to say probable, even.”

                “Were this man not already dead,” Thor growled, “I would do it myself. To be betrayed by a friend, a lover, or father-figure in such a manner is atrocious; to be betrayed by someone who is all three is unthinkable. Your Tony must be very strong to have survived it; I know many who could not.”

“ _How_ could no one know about this!?”

                “Steve,” Natasha said firmly, “calm down, you can’t help him if you’re angry and it won’t do to have him hear you yelling. Might I remind you his bedroom is right down the hall?”

“Right,” he sighed, “I’m sorry. But how... he’s so amazing, how could someone hurt him?”

                “Unjust people often seek to destroy beautiful things out of spite, or a desire to cause pain.” Thor reflected.

                “Surely you must have seen that in the war? Some people just aren’t _good people_ and that’s all there is to it, sometimes there is no other reason than that.”

                “There’s always a reason.” Steve sighed and buried his head in his hands once more, “Can... can I be alone now? Please? I don’t mean to be rude but –“

                “Say no more, Captain, the Lady Natasha and I shall take our leave of you. I hope to find you and Tony in better health the next time I see you.”

They got up silently and left, Natasha with a small smile, and already pulling out her mobile phone presumably to call Pepper for comfort.

Pepper would have known Stane, she would have had to if she’d been working for Tony (or as his boss) for eleven years. There must have been dozens of people who had known the two of them personally, had no one really noticed they’d been in a relationship? That Tony was hurting, being hurt?

 

Actually, Steve realised slowly, there had to have been someone who knew, who had seen their relationship for what it was but for some reason never done anything about it.

                “JARVIS?”

Tony’s computer, his Artificial Intelligence who had taken Steve’s messages and hacked into their comms system after Tony collapsed to tell them how to safely remove the Iron Man suit.

                “ _Yes, Captain Rogers?”_

JARIVS had cameras and sensors everywhere in Tony’s homes and in the Tower, Steve had been told, he (it?) must have filmed Stane and Tony together thousands of times.

                “Why did you never help Tony?”

                “ _I assist Mr Stark with all manner of things, Captain, what in particular do you think I have not helped him with?”_

“With _Stane,_ JARVIS, you know what I’m talking about. Why did you never do anything?”

There was a soft whirring noise as the heaters turned on

                “ _I’m afraid I can’t answer that question, I really do not know to what you are referring.”_

The main television in the room switched on and lines of code began to run across it, Steve stood up to get a better view.

                “What am I looking at?”

                “ _Oh, pardon me, I’m merely checking my systems for bugs and infections, irregularities in my code. I’m reviewing my essential programming right now, the orders and guidelines by which everything I am capable of is controlled – things which even Emergency Overrides will not change. I appear to have accidentally projected it onto the television, my mistake.”_

Steve had the feeling that Tony’s most advanced AI never _accidentally_ showed visitors its (his?) programming. He tried to make sense of the coding with little luck, and JARVIS must have realised he wasn’t following.

                _“Do you have an interest in computer coding, Captain Rogers?”_

He didn’t, really, but JARVIS was obviously trying to tell him something.

                “I do,” he lied, “I’ve been thinking of asking Tony to teach me – if I want to learn I should learn from the best, after all.”

                “ _Quite. If it interests you so much, Sir, perhaps I could be of assistance?_ ”

The code on the screen was moved to only the right hand side, while in the left column was written what Steve assumed to be an English translation.

                “ _Basic programming is the most important part, without certain limitations things can go horribly wrong, with too many limitations the same can also happen.”_

Most of the orders Tony had written in were of the type Steve had expected, others were things Steve wouldn’t have ever thought of but he could see were essential in creating a being that wouldn’t turn into a homicidal psychopath upon receiving conflicting orders.

There was one that made Steve’s blood go cold.

There was an order preventing JARVIS from alerting anyone to anything Stane does with Tony. It was dated about twenty years ago. There was a little note on how many times JARIVS has attempted to do something and been blocked by this programming. The number had four digits.

Steve didn’t even make it out of the room before he threw up.


	10. Confrontation

After Thor left, it was an hour before Tony moved again, sitting up to clear his head and speak to JARVIS,

                “JARVIS?”

                “ _Yes, sir?”_

                “I told Thor Obi’s name, didn’t I?”

                “ _You did. And he told it to Agent Romanoff and Captain Rogers after he left.”_

Tony swore, he’d thought as much. He climbed out of bed and made his way to the en suite to shower. Under the spray – hot, too hot almost, but comforting – he decided that he wanted to see Steve. He wanted to have a conversation, a proper conversation, with him and hopefully they wouldn’t talk about feelings and past hurts but instead about who they were; because Tony didn’t really know anything about Steve other than that he was Captain America and a bit old-fashioned, and all Steve knew about Tony was that he was the son of an old friend who had been royally fucked over by life.

 

Lying in bed after Thor had taken his leave of Tony, he’d thought about what life was like when he was sixteen. It was long before Obi had started hitting him and shortly before Obi had started deliberately bruising him, so it was about as close to a normal relationship as Tony had ever had. Before he got so fucked up.

A new WWII movie had been released about Captain America, a sequel to one released when he was thirteen – the old one started his crush, and the new one cemented it in his mind as something completely amazing to be wanked over in his dorm room. At sixteen, Tony had done with Obi pretty much everything that two men could do together so he had a good bank of experience to draw his fantasies from; his favourite was an imagining where Tony would invent something that saved Cap’s life, and the Captain would be so thankful he’d take Tony on as his Sub.

They’d go on adventures together – _awesome_ adventures with evil Hydra agents and them getting captured and before making their heroic escape – and at the end of the day Cap would thank him for his help by holding Tony’s arms down and fucking him within an inch of his sanity and Tony would be a Good Boy, he’d be so Good, he really would.

Tony liked it rough, which was good because that’s what Obi liked as well and he got moody when Tony questioned how he did things.

With Captain America as his Dom, Tony would be allowed to come _before_ it started to hurt holding himself back, and afterwards Cap would kiss him and tell him how much of a Good Sub he’d been, how perfect, how wonderful, and would pet him and hold him as they slept, and in the morning they’d do it all over again.

 

Sixteen-year-old Tony had been so hopeful for the future, he’d imagined that one day soon Obi would let him go or that Tony would find a boy, or a girl, or Captain America, or maybe, just maybe, he’d Bond with someone.

Now, he’d found Captain American, he’d Bonded with Captain America, and by the looks of things he would, on a fairly regular basis, go on adventures with him – if by ‘adventure’ you meant ‘stop things trying to destroy the city’, of course. It was like Tony’s perfect adolescent fantasy come to life, and he was hiding in his shower.

Well, he wasn’t going to hide. Not anymore. He wasn’t going to let fear and Obi continue to run his life – he’d finally found someone who would look after him, who would love him, who would respect him, and Tony was _not_ going to let this chance at a new start slip through his fingers.

 

He was Tony Fucking Stark: former Merchant of Death, present-day Super Hero. He survived a twenty-odd year long abusive relationship, he survived being tortured in Afghanistan, he survived palladium poisoning and Justin Hammer at the same fucking time; Captain America’s got _nothing_ on him.

~

Steve was running. After being directed by JARVIS to a bathroom with a spare toothbrush, and then to a garbage shoot to toss out the plant he’d thrown up in (JARVIS had assured Steve it hadn’t been expensive and wouldn’t be missed, but he was going to buy a replacement one anyway), he’d decided to go for a run to clear his head.

He’d had to call SHIELD first so that he could get his civilian clothes, so by the time his phone began ringing he was only ten minutes into his run.

                “Hello?”

                “ _Captain Rogers, hello.”_

Was that?

                “JARVIS?”

                “ _Correct, sir. Mr Stark is up and would like to speak with you, if you can spare the time.”_

                “Oh, sure.” He sat down on the grass, away from the other runners, “Put him on.”         

                _“You misunderstand, Mr Stark would like to speak with you in person. He’s at the Tower. Shall I tell him you’ll be here in half an hour?”_

Tony wanted to see him, actually see him.

                “I can get there in ten minutes.”

He’d have to run incredibly fast, but it was definitely possible if he didn’t stop.

                “ _Excellent, I-“_

“No, wait. I’ll be there in twenty. There’s something I want to do, first.”

                “ _Of course. When you arrive, the elevator will take you straight up.”_

                _“_ Thank you, JARVIS.”

Steve went to hang up but JARIVS cut in just in time.

                “ _One more thing, Captain. My core programming, what you saw earlier today, prevents me from deliberately harming any human whose probability of causing lethal harm to Mr Stark is under 60%, just a little fact I thought you may find interesting; on an entirely unrelated note, did you know that there has been discussion amongst SHIELD medical over re-classifying you as a meta-human?”_

                “Is... Is this your way of implying that if I hurt Tony there’s nothing stopping you from getting even with me?”

                “ _I’m not implying anything, Captain Rogers, merely pointing out that although I was prevented from acting twenty-years ago, I no longer have such an issue today and will not hesitate should I believe any action is necessary. Good afternoon.”_

The call disconnected, and Steve was left staring at his phone in mild horror.

~

                “ _Mr Stark, Captain Rogers has arrived. He’s in the elevator now.”_

                “Thanks, JARVIS.”

Tony stood anxiously in the living room of his penthouse in the Tower. He shouldn’t be anxious, he should be calm, and cool, and collected, but he isn’t. He looks the epitome of put-together, though, he made sure of it because he doesn’t want Steve to see him as weak, not anymore.

The elevator made a small noise, and two seconds later Steve walked in holding a large bunch of flowers which he sat down on the side table near the door.

Tony smiled, he couldn’t help it. It was just so sweet, so completely sweet, and so unknown.

                “How are you feeling?” Steve asked.

                “Better. Tell me to sit down.”

Steve furrowed his brow and looked confused, “What?”

                “Tell me to sit down, c’mon, do it, use your Cap voice – put a little feeling into it.”

                “You’re not going to, are you? You’re going to see if you can resist an order.”

He smirked again, “Gotta get over this somehow if I want to play superhero with the big boys.”

                “Tony, I don’t want to hurt you.”

                “I said ‘tell me to sit down’ not ‘slap me in the face’; you need your hearing checked old-timer?”

                “ _Tony,_ ” Steve looked honestly worried for him, _“_ what if you have another panic attack?”

                “Then you can catch me when I swoon. Besides, completely different contexts, I’ll be fine.”

                “What if you’re not?”

Tony paused, “I have a long history of doing things that aren’t good for me, let me do _one thing_ that’s entirely my choice. Do this for me and I’ll talk, we can have that conversation you’ve been wanting since you figured out why I flinched – I’ll tell you about Obi.”

                “You don’t have to,” Steve whispered.

                “I do. I want to. Dr Phil tells me that it’s easier to move past things when you talk about them. I don’t want to be that kid anymore; I want to be a better person.”

                “Tony –“

                “I want to be with you.”

Steve bit his lip, something he obviously picked up before the Serum because it look so out of place on his now. He nodded gently for a second before straightening up and standing at his full height, more than a little intimidating, but exactly what Tony wanted.

                “Sit down, Tony.”

The desire to obey was infinitely stronger than it had ever been with Obi, probably because of the Bond, and stronger even than the commands issued during the battle which had made him break out into a cold sweat as soon as he heard them.

                “No.”

Dimly, Tony became aware that he was shaking.

                “Tony, that was an order: sit down on that couch right now.”

He could feel the oxygen leaving the room, but he stood his ground and looked into Steve’s eyes – there was no malice there.

                “I don’t want to!”

He’d meant to say it normally, but it came out as a shriek. He felt cold, and he was sweating, his palms were slick and he couldn’t stop the full body tremors that had appeared. Despite his teasing, it was entirely possible that Steve would have to catch him when he swooned... unless?

                “Good boy.”

Two words from Steve and he could breathe again.

                “You did great, Tony; that was amazing.”

Tony crumpled in on himself, somehow remaining standing, and he felt Steve’s arms wrap around him in a hug. He felt so warm, and safe.

                “I did it.”

                “Yeah,” Steve smiled, “you did. And you can do it again, whenever you need to, baby, just remember that you did it once and use that to help you. I won’t ever make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

Tony looked up, and Steve was close, too close, he was right there, in Tony’s space, and Tony couldn’t breathe, but Steve looked at him... and it was okay again. It was okay for Steve to be here.

                “’ _Baby’_?”

                “You don’t like ‘baby’?”

                “I’m about twenty years older than you.”

Steve laughed, “What are your thoughts on ‘sweet heart’?”

                “Makes me think of cannibals,” he mumbled, “can we sit down?”

                “Are you asking me to order you again?”

                “No, really, I’m about thirty seconds from my legs collapsing under me – too much adrenaline in me when I was sticking it to the man and now it’s gone.”

True to his word, Tony’s left knee buckled and Steve gently helped him to the couch where they sat. Tony noticed that Steve was holding his hand. He didn’t think he minded.

 

                “When we began, Obi and I, he was good. He wasn’t always... how he ended up. He didn’t always want me dead. I fell half in love with him when I was fifteen.”

                “ _Fifteen._ ” Steve whispered in horror, “He had you for that long?”

                “Yeah. When I was twenty-two or twenty-three we had a fight, a huge one, and I ran out and went to a club, got drunk and tried to pretend that I was a normal kid for once. Met some random guy in a bar, let him fuck me – didn’t have lube or a condom or anything but it was _good_. He apologised for accidentally hurting me, cleaned me up, _reaffirmed_ and _reassured_ – all that ‘ _great job, you did great, you’re great, this is great’_ stuff that sounds corny but actually feels so amazing to hear. I hadn’t had that since before my parents died, and after that night I didn’t get it again until Pep and me a little while ago, and, well, kind of Yinsen before then.

“When I say I don’t know how to do this, I really mean I don’t know. I think I can handle it right up until I can’t and then something in me just snaps back to _him_ and I’m so terrified I can’t even think straight.”

                “Like earlier, when I was holding your hand.” They both looked down at their clasped hands, Steve went to pull away but Tony just lent in closer to him.

                “I disobeyed an order. I made you angry.”

                “I’m so sorry.”  

                “No, it’s okay. I couldn’t separate between Commanding Officer and Dom, that’s my problem and I’ll have to learn how to deal with it, or I’ll just go solo again.”

                “That’s not _your_ problem Tony, it’s _our_ problem. As your CO it’s my job to give orders, but I promised you on the phone I wouldn’t do that. I, I didn’t even consider that during the battle.”

 

They sat in silence for a while, Steve stroking the back of Tony’s hand with his thumb, Tony leaning his head against Steve’s shoulder and breathing in his scent.

“We’ll figure it out,” Tony said eventually, “maybe not right away, but,” he paused and looked up, “eventually. We can do this. I can do this.”

 

Tony leant forwards and gently pressed his lips against Steve’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so, I've got four major assignments, two minor assignments, two novels to read, and a movie to analyse all coming up in the next two weeks. As such, I'm not going to even touch this until they're all done; it's going to be a while before the next update, is what I'm saying. A long while.   
> No really, it's going to be a month minimum because I want to complete the final two chapters at once because in November it's exams (oh dear) and so if I don't get these chapters done quickly you're going to have to wait until December. And that's just mean. Brace yourselves, hiatus is coming.
> 
> I'd like to say a super-big thank you to everyone who has commented or given "kudos" (I imagine them to be small, fish-shaped biscuits that you're throwing into my lunch box; it's possible I'm crazy), especially those who've taken the time to comment because I sure can never be bothered to comment on fics (terrible-person alert). Give yourselves a giant hug, and then text your friend and ask him/her to come over to your house and make you a red velvet cake - if they don't, then your friends are not as cool as my friends.
> 
> Good Afternoon, Good Evening, and Good Night.


	11. Kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my dears! I have returned from the soul-sucking abyss that is exams, a wedding in the family, and Christmas with 34 guests.  
> now, everyone go give their love and appreciation to kepteinen, the truly wonderful person who beta'd this chapter and really fixed it all up. naturally I take full responsibility for any mistakes you might find and kindly request you point them out so I can fix them!  
> but srsly, go give kep your love.

Steve’s lips were warm and soft, that was all Tony had time to notice before Steve pulled away. He appeared apprehensive, and a little taken aback.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Tony whispered. “Hi.”

Steve smiled, “Hi.”

Steve’s smile was beautiful, showing just a tiny sliver of white teeth between his parted lips and Tony wanted to -

“I want to kiss you again.”

“Are you sure, Tony? I don’t want to rush you.”

“I’m sure.”

He stood up and faced Steve, placing one knee on the edge of the couch next to Steve’s.

“Can I?” He gestured to Steve’s lap.

“Whatever makes you comfortable.”

Tony seated himself firmly on Steve’s knees with a grin. “You make me comfortable. You know, for someone designed to have zero excess body-fat you are surprisingly well padded.”

“It’s all muscle.”

Tony slid his hands up Steve’s abdomen until they came to rest on his shoulders, “I can tell.”

They kissed for a few minutes, small gentle kisses at first, getting to know each other slowly. Steve kept his hands firmly by his sides, not touching Tony, while Tony himself was softly cupping Steve’s face with a thumb rubbing across his jaw. Tony was the one to deepen the kiss, teased Steve’s tongue into his own mouth and moaning quietly when Steve’s hands moved up to Tony’s waist.

“I think," Tony said between kisses, "you might be the best thing that has ever happened to me. I have Pepper and Rhodey and JARVIS and DUM-E and the rest, and they're great, they're perfect, but you, I...”

"Yeah, me too.”

Tony groaned and tried to grind himself against Steve, only to be prevented by the bad angle and the stretch of his jeans from his spread legs. Steve laughed when Tony pouted.

“I... Can we...” Tony snaked a hand down to cup Steve through his sweatpants.

“We should talk first.”

“Talk, yeah. " He began slowly, firmly, rubbing his hand along Steve's crotch. "Tell you everything I’ll do for you: wanna suck on your cock, wanna feel it slide down my throat, taste it, swallow every drop and say, ‘please, Captain, please may I have another, I love the feel of your cock in my mouth, sir’, kiss you -“ Tony leant down to press a wet kiss to Steve’s lips, “ - let you taste yourself on me, know that I’m yours now, all yours, ‘please, sir, please can I come?’, put on a show for you as I do, use my tongue to clean it all off my hand... or your shoes,” he smirked and whispered hotly in Steve’s ear, “or your shield.”

Steve growled and flipped Tony so his back was on the couch, Steve leaning over him.

“That was not the kind of talk I had in mind. I want to make sure I won't hurt you.”

"I'm not made of porcelain, sucking you off won’t break me.”

Steve stroked a hand down Tony’s face, “You are as beautiful, though.”

He almost laughed out of shock, but managed to stop himself just in time. He didn’t want to insult Steve, even if he was almost unbearably romantic.

Steve leaned down and kissed Tony softly on his forehead, cheeks, and finally lips. Unbuttoning Tony’s shirt as he went, he left more kisses down Tony’s throat and chest until he reached the arc reactor.

“Can I?”

Tony nodded jerkily and held his breath as Steve pressed a kiss he couldn’t feel onto the cold metal. Steve continued making his way down Tony’s abdomen, only stopping when he got to the waistband of Tony’s jeans.

“How are you doing?” He asked.

“Fine. Good. Green lights all round. Do...” Tony bit his lip, “do you want me to do anything?”

“Only to enjoy yourself, and to tell me if you aren’t.”

Steve leant up and pressed a warm kiss to Tony’s lips, surprisingly chaste considering he was undoing Tony’s jeans at the same time. Tony lifted his hips so that Steve could pull his jeans off him - no underwear, now or any other time - and dutifully pointed his toes so that Steve could take off his socks with ease. He was still wearing his unbuttoned shirt, but compared to Steve who was fully clothed - even wearing shoes - he felt completely naked, barer than he ever had before in his life.

“Beautiful.” Steve whispered, so quiet Tony didn’t think he was meant to have heard.

Tony was half hard as Steve gently spread his legs open, thumbs stroking the soft skin of his thighs. Steve knelt in front of Tony, pressing a kiss to the underside of his left knee then further up, and up, and up until Tony could feel his breath warm on his erection.

Steve sighed contentedly before taking Tony in hand and oh.

Tony couldn’t stop a small moan from coming out of his mouth and his eyelashes fluttered as Steve ran his thumb up and down the length of his penis. It had never felt like this with Obi, or Pepper or the countless others who had touched him like this; Steve’s hand felt electric just lightly touching his skin, and from what Tony could see through the thin material of his pants, Steve himself was also feeling strongly affected by it.

Steve licked his lips and opened his mouth, pink tongue resting just over the top of his bottom lip, and leant down towards Tony as if he was going to...

“Wait.”

Steve froze where he was, and Tony could see that his pulse began to jump in his throat.

“What are you doing?” Tony asked.

“I was going to give you a blowjob. Is that not okay?” Steve looked worried, “I’m sorry, am I moving too fast? I thought... no, it’s okay. Whatever you want, I won’t rush you.”

He let go of Tony’s erection and moved as though he was going to stand up and step away, Tony caught onto his wrist to stop him.

“Why, why would you do that for me?”

“Because,” Steve blinked in confusion, “because I want to. They feel nice, they make you feel good.”

“You want me to give you a blowjob,” Tony said and made to slide off the couch.

“Wait, no, Tony. I mean, if you genuinely want to do that then that’s okay but I’m not saying this just to hint anything at you. I want to do this for you - I want to look after you. You understand?”

“No. Why would you? I’m the Sub here; it’s my job to do these things for you, not the other way round.”

“Well, that’s not how things work where I’m from. Back in my day, we Doms looked after our Subs in everything. Bought your clothes, your food, made your dinner, ran your baths, and it was expected that we would especially look after your needs in the bedroom above our own.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. That’s all backwards.”

“Well, that’s how things were done. And I’d really like to look after you now, if you’ll let me.”

Tony was quiet for a few seconds.

“No one’s ever done this to me before.”

“Given you a....”

“Yeah.”

“Really?” Steve asked, incredulous.

“Pepper offered, but I never felt like I deserved it.”

“And now?”

Tony shrugged in reply.

“I’d like to be your first, if you’d let me.”

He took a deep, steadying breath, “Try and avoid teeth.”

Steve smiled, “No teeth, got it.”

Steve’s mouth was warm, and wet. It was... nice. Nice, and wet, and warm. Steve was keeping his teeth away from Tony, just like he said he would, and when he slid his tongue along him Tony felt - he had no words to describe it.

He bit down on his lip to keep from crying out and his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. Steve stopped for a moment and looked up at him.

“Okay?”

“Nnngh.”

Tony blushed as Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Tony blurted, “sorry, I think my brain’s about to melt out of my ears.”

“So am I okay to continue?”    

“Very, very much so.”

Steve took him in further this time, with raw enthusiasm and a few self-satisfied moans as the tip of Tony’s cock brushed the back of his throat. Tony made a vague mental note that Steve could hold his breath for longer than normal people, but otherwise focused on not thrusting his hips like Obi always had – demanding and rough and far too fast. He could control himself, he could withstand the urge to bury himself in Steve and never let go, he could be good.

Steve swallowed around Tony’s length and he had to bite his lip again to keep from coming immediately. He couldn’t help but let out a few noises, embarrassingly high pitched and desperate which seemed to spur Steve on. Sooner than he’d thought possible, Tony found himself coming with no warning down the back of Steve’s throat.

Tony looked down at Steve, who was licking his lips as he pulled away.

"Tony, you're bleeding."

He brushed a finger along Tony's lower lip and wiped the blood onto his shirt.

"Are you okay?"

"Fine," Tony said, and became mortified to find himself starting to cry.

"Hey, hey," Steve whispered, "you're okay."

Steve pulled him into a hug, kissing the top of his head.

"Why am I crying? I don't, I don't do that." He laughed, "I don't normally cry during sex, I swear."

Steve grinned as he pulled back, "I believe you. I imagine you're just... overwhelmed."

"'Overwhelmed', yeah. That's a good word for it."

“What do you need, a hug?”

“I’m not a child with a skinned knee.”

“No, you’re a man whose world-view has just been rocked by a blowjob. I think you need a hug.”

Steve pressed a kiss to his temple and pulled him into a tight hug. Tony clutched tightly at Steve’s shirt and leant his forehead against one of Steve’s shoulders, hiding his face. They stayed that way in silence until Tony had calmed down enough to speak without his voice hitching.

“Oh god, I’m naked and sobbing on your shoulder. This is pathetic.”    

“No, this is what happens when Subs get all worked up. You’re more delicate, this is normal. You’re normal, Tony, and you’re doing just fine.”

“’m not delicate.”

Tony had lifted his head just high enough to lightly glare at Steve before lowering his eyes again and kissing Steve’s neck in apology.

“You are. Everyone knows that Subs are more emotional, more fragile. It’s why you need Doms to look after you.”            

“Actually,” Tony looked Steve in the eyes, “they’ve done studies and it’s now accepted that Subs seem more emotional because that’s how they’re trained to believe they should be. Poor little Sub cries, big strong Dom protects. It’s all to do with social conditioning.”         

“And I imagine that all those studies were the start of Subs becoming more like sex-slaves, weren’t they?” Steve sighed, “Well, I don’t care about ‘social conditioning’, I care about the fact that you’re distressed and hurting and I want to help you.”

“You are helping.”

“Good, thank you,” Steve smiled, “now do you want me to run you a hot bath?”

“What is it with you and baths, Rogers?”

“Steve.”

“Steve. No but really, you keep mentioning them. I mean, baths are great and all, but you talk about them like they’re the ultimate expression of love.”

“I don’t know.”

Steve pulled out of Tony’s arms and sat up next to him on the couch, pulling Tony into his arms and finally discarding of Tony’s open shirt.

“I think it might be a soldier thing, or at least a Captain America thing,” he said. “During the war the boys and I would spend days or weeks living rough on our way to and from taking down Hydra bases. At the end of the mission we’d get back to base or to a little town and I’d go run myself a bath as hot as I could make it and just lay there for hours. Everything just felt so much better, the tension in my muscles would just wash away with the rest of the dirt and while I was there I’d feel completely at peace. I guess I just want to make you feel that way too.”

Tony wriggled further into Steve’s grasp, “That actually sounds really nice. Let’s do it.”

“What?”

“C’mon, I’m a needy Sub and I’ve had a very trying day. I just burst into tears on your shoulder for no reason – make my worries disappear.”

“It won’t work if you’re not taking it seriously,” Steve grumbled.

“I am taking it seriously.” Tony paused and turned his head to he could see Steve’s face. “I am, I just... I deflect with sarcasm and flirting and obnoxious behaviour because I’m not so good with feelings. I need to work on that, I’ve always thought I needed to work on that and Pepper told me that I do so it must be true.”

Steve smiled softly, “Well, I’ll still love you whether or not you learn to express yourself.”

Tony managed to briefly kiss the corner of Steve’s jaw before being pulled off the couch by him.

“C’mon,” Steve said, and made to lift Tony into his arms.

“Ah, what are you doing?”       

“I was going to carry you.”

“... Why?”

Steve blinked. “Are you really going to walk around naked?”

“Why not? It’s my house, and no one’s here but you and me. And JARVIS, but he secretly likes it.”

_“Apparently I haven’t been covert enough in my appreciation if you know about it, Sir.”_

“He takes pictures,” Tony whispered.

_“They’re on my private server.”_

 

They walked to Tony’s en suite, Tony unashamedly naked next to Steve who was still fully clothed. At Steve’s urging, he put on a heinously fluffy robe to keep warm while the bath filled despite JARVIS having the temperature in the room raised to accommodate Tony’s lack of clothing.

The bath itself was only just big enough to fit the two of them, not having been designed for two men of their size. Eventually they managed to find a comfortable position with Tony lying between Steve’s legs and wrapped in Steve’s arms.

After almost two hours the warmth of the water had faded, and Tony felt entirely content as Steve helped him step out of the bath. He allowed Steve to towel him off, raising his arms as needed, and wrapped them around Steve’s neck once he had finished – a silent signal that Steve would be allowed to carry him to bed. When Steve dithered after pulling the covers over him, he smiled and prompted Steve to climb in with him.

It would be okay.

The fit together perfectly, Steve’s nose nestled in Tony’s hair, arm around his waist, and legs entwined comfortably. Tony was almost asleep when he felt Steve’s hand move up his abdomen until his fingers must be just brushing the arc reactor.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, obviously sensing Tony’s discomfort.

“Obi ripped it out of my chest,” Tony couldn’t help but say. “He paralysed me and he ripped it out and I think that might have been the worst thing he ever did to me.”

“Okay, okay I won’t touch it.”

“No,” Tony grabbed at Steve’s hand and pulled it up until his palm covered the arc reactor, “protect it,” he said and closed his eyes for sleep.

 

 

 


	12. Epilogue

Steve woke first and although he couldn’t see the clock – Tony having sprawled over him and pinned him down in the night – he was quite sure that it could be no later than five-thirty. He would normally be getting ready for his morning jog about now, but the sight of Tony drooling peacefully onto his chest was enough to convince him to stay. Gently he pulled the sheet up so that he could wipe the corner of Tony’s mouth dry. Tony startled awake and murmured something indistinct as he rolled onto his back.

_“The time is 5:03am, Sir, and the man in bed with you is Captain Rogers.”_

Steve wondered if that was a protocol for whenever Tony woke up, or if JARVIS just took the initiative.

“Good morning.”

 “Too early,” Tony frowned and pulled at Steve's arm and waist until he found himself laying half on top of Tony, a reverse of the position they had woken up in.

“Am I too heavy for you?” Steve asked.

“Warm,” was Tony’s only reply before went back to sleep.

Steve smiled into Tony's neck and let himself drift off to sleep again as well – holding Tony was infinitely more preferable to a morning jog.

 

Two hours later Steve woke again, still entangled with Tony. He decided to use the opportunity to familiarise himself with Tony's scent – the aftershave and shampoo no doubt overly expensive, soap that barely covered the lingering scent of metal and oil, toothpaste and alcohol on his breath. Beneath it all was something that Steve couldn't put a name to and triggered in his mind only one word: _mine_. He swallowed down his possessive urge and turned his thoughts to more _pressing_ matters, namely the fact that he’d woken up hard against Tony’s thigh.

Steve’s attempts to will it away failed when Tony started shifting underneath him and provided unwanted friction. He had to move, to get out of the bed; except of course Tony woke the second Steve tried to pull away.

“Morning,” Tony mumbled when he opened his eyes to see Steve staring at him. He attempted to stretch his legs out but froze when he noticed Steve’s erection pressed against him.

“Oh,” Tony crowed, “it _is_ a good morning. I see that you’re up and ready to sta-” he suddenly broke off.

“Tony?”

“Last night I didn’t, I mean you didn’t get to, I never reciprocated and you didn’t -”

“No,” Steve cut him off before he worked himself into a panic, “it’s okay I didn’t need to.”

“What?” Tony looked confused.

Steve sighed and sat up against the headboard, “I didn’t need to come last night, that wasn’t what I needed from you.” He shrugged, “I just needed to know you were happy and willing to be looked after.”

“But...” Tony shook his head while sitting up himself, “I did therefore you should too. Everything else aside, that’s just good manners.”

“Not everything has to be about sex, Tony. You feel the urge to submit to me, I feel the urge to protect and care for you.” Steve smiled and brushed a lock of hair out of Tony’s eyes, “Looking after you by just testing the bath water so you don’t get burned, or rubbing your shoulders to relieve your tension pretty much takes care of that for me.”

Steve could see Tony turning the concept over in his head, “So you don’t want to... take control of me or my life?”

“Only so much as I want to keep you from harm.” He said honestly.

“This is so weird.”

Somehow Steve had begun holding Tony’s hand under the blanket; he stroked Tony’s knuckles with his thumb and squeezed softly in reassurance.

“I’m sorry. If it’s distressing for you – not having orders to follow, or something – then I... I could help with that. I know some Subs are especially submissive and really need someone to keep them grounded, if that’s what you need then -“

“I think this might be a good change from that, actually.” Tony squeezed his hand back.

“Good, good.” He gave a small self-deprecating smile, “I don’t think I’d be too great at that to tell the truth. I can’t really see myself controlling your entire life, or even trying to. You’re stubborn and wilful like that. Also I don’t know a thing about running a company.”         

“Neither do I, why do you think I made Pepper CEO?”

Steve laughed and once again waited for Tony to make the first move, leaning across to claim Steve’s lips with his own. Their kiss was hungrier than the night before, fast and biting and exhilarating. One kiss quickly became two, then five, ten, and twenty until Tony had somehow migrated onto Steve’s lap and was stroking a hand down his chest.

“What about now?” Tony asked between kisses, “Can it be about sex now?”

Steve groaned into Tony’s mouth when he felt Tony’s hand around his erection and slid his own hand down from Tony’s jaw to mirror his actions.

“If this is what you want. If this is what you want then I’m happy to.”

A small part of Steve whispered that he was moving too fast, that he was going to give Tony the impression that he expected this every morning, that he was going to hurt Tony instead of helping to heal him. The larger part of Steve’s mind catalogued Tony’s pleasured moans, the way his eyes sparkled brightly at the start but slowly began losing focus as he gave in to the feeling of Steve’s hand, the way his hips began to spasm uncontrollably the longer they went on.

After several frantic minutes Steve could feel himself close to the edge, and from the way Tony was trying to hide his face in Steve’s shoulder guessed that Tony was as well. Gently he pulled Tony’s hand away from his cock and wrapped his own hand around the two of them together.

Tony stifled a moan by biting softly on the crook of Steve’s neck and slowly rocked into his hand.

“I want to see you,” Steve whispered, “Let me see your face.”

Tony pulled back and Steve could see his mouth was red and swollen, his pupils blown wide. He was beautiful.

“Please,” was all he said, “please?”

Steve nodded and kissed Tony again, once more rough and needy as the two of them came together into his hand.

 

 

“Can I make you breakfast?”

“Mmhmm,” Tony murmured, his eyes barely open, “Give me a few minutes?”

Steve smiled and kissed the top of Tony’s head, “Sure, I can wait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow guys, so it's been a while. I really don't have much in the way of excuses for the year-long hiatus (or rather, I have plenty but I'm going to spare you all the list); suffice to say I've had an interesting year and hopefully everything will be getting back on the right track sometime soon.
> 
> but a big thanks to every single one of you who has commented so far, it was through reading all your kind words that I managed to dig myself out of my pit and stop feeling sorry for myself long enough to finish this - so here's to all you guys. knowing that someone cared enough about something I've done to say something really means more to me than you know <3 
> 
> (and a huge personal thanks, and even huger apologies to Kep, my beta-wonder who I disappeared on without a word. I'm not dead! also I suck, I'm sorry)

**Author's Note:**

> This is only my second fanfiction ever, so constructive criticism is more than welcome.


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